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word count;; 14k+ pairing;; sebastian sallow x f!reader warnings;; depictions of injury, violence, and death. use of crucio. slight jealousy, angst, and a lil fluff and mutual pining to go along<3 slight lore changes regarding fiendfyre, and use of y/n. slightly dark wizard!sebastian but also saviour!sebastian 💖

*minor hogwarts legacy spoilers but nothing outright*

a/n;; this took longer than expected- i haven't written in so long so i hope you guys enjoy 💖 (i didn't expect it to be this long, and i feel like the end is a bit shit but i appreciate all of you guys sm for entertaining my fics)

Nestled in the Scottish Highlands, away from prying and mundane eyes, stood a behemoth of magic, history, legend and mystery. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle’s many stained glass windows glistened, the Black Lake sparkled under the stars, and the Forbidden Forest looked just as foreboding, yet at the same time, peaceful, under the last of that night’s moonlight.

The serenity of the landscape was suddenly disturbed, but not by destruction, instead by one of the most regal and proud creatures. A large, majestic Hippogriff broke through the light clouds that hung over the castle, and on the creature's back was a girl, nothing more than a Hogwarts student. “Let’s go Highwing, before anyone notices we’ve been gone all night,” said the girl on the creature's back as she took in the sights from the height they flew at one more time before returning to her usual student life. As Highwing soared in the sky, her huge wings beat against the wind causing an undeniable rhythm in the air. The large, majestic creature flew, a loud and proud call was let out from her chest as she took one last long soar before beginning her descent back to the ground.

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Back in the quiet of the castle, where students slept soundly, the only thoughts in their minds were the dreams that played out behind their closed eyes, there was one student who hadn’t slipped into the comfort and safety of his dream realm, a fifth-year Slytherin by the name of Sebastian Sallow. Instead of being nestled up cosy in his bed just like his fellow students, Sebastian sat perched on a long sofa in the Slytherin common room, eyes drifting between the doorways that were across from him, his books and the mix of half-used, blank pieces of parchment that sat on the table in front of him. “Where is she…?” he muttered to himself, slinking back into the cushions behind him. Usually, Sebastian wouldn’t keep himself so concerned with what someone else was doing, against the rules or not. But Sebastian found himself in this predicament more often than he would care to admit.

The new student, y/n, had a penchant for sneaking off unnoticed, with only the occasional comment from Imelda or Poppy drawing any attention. However, Sebastian on the other hand was more than aware of her disappearances. In fact, her absence never failed to register with him. Initially, he didn't dwell on it too much, respecting her need for privacy, just as he would want. Yet, an underlying sense of worry persisted within Sebastian, despite his rational understanding.

His eyes drifted around the large open room, taking in every inch of the usually bustling common room. Even the large windows at the end of the room that stood proud, looking out under the murky, Black Lake provided no signs of life, not a single thing except for the usual green hue coming from the windows, casting a haunting, yet beautiful atmosphere. It seemed for all the world, that everyone but Sebastian was asleep, everyone but Sebastian was without a worry. His eyes settled on the fire, the flames were a deep, vibrant orange, hinted with hues of yellow and red as they twisted and danced together. Sebastian found himself, once again, getting lost in their hypnotic sway. There had always been something so inciting to him about fire — the beauty of it, yet the destruction it was capable of always just twinkling beyond the captivating twists.

The sudden sound of a light step began to echo throughout the stagnant silence Sebastian found himself in, pulling his focus away from the dancing flames, choosing instead to watch the entrance to the common from the staircase, a drop of hope bubbled in his stomach as he sat up a little straighter and picked up his book, as if to seem like he was unable to sleep; instead of sitting, waiting for y/n to return. The footsteps were soft, almost imperceptible, like the gentle patter of raindrops on a windowpane. They echoed through the dimly lit room, creating a rhythm that seemed to reverberate through the very air. It was as if the very walls of the castle were whispering secrets, hinting at the arrival of someone who could provide answers to the questions that had been swirling in his mind.

"Sebastian?" a voice asked, barely a whisper, barely rising above the gentle lull of the crackling hearth. The soft patter of approaching footsteps punctured the quiet, drawing nearer to where Sebastian sat, engulfed in his thoughts.

"What are you doing up so late? I didn’t expect anyone to be up." y/n inquired, her voice laced with a hint of worry as she settled onto the sofa opposite him. The faint glow of the embers cast a warm light upon her face, revealing the fatigue etched into her features.

Sebastian lightly shook his head, placing his book atop the disarray of parchment. "Sleep eluded me, so I thought to come down here, see if I can make a dent in Sharp’s assignment" he replied, his tone carefully measured to hide the deceit. He hoped the flickering shadows would hide the concern that he felt was all too apparent in his eyes. "Let's not dwell on just my sleeping habits," he deftly redirected, his gaze intently studying her, "You're the one cutting it close, aren't you? Classes in a few hours, and here you are. I'd wager you not making it to our morning classes tomorrow." A strained chuckle escaped him as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, bridging the distance between them.

Her response was uncharacteristically delayed, and when it came, it didn’t come with its usual excitement. She drew in a breath, her gaze fixed on the dancing flames that seemed to ensnare her reflection in their fiery ballet. Her hands moved in a subtle, self-comforting gesture, leaving a hint of an inner turmoil that she hadn’t confided in him.

A flicker of movement drew his attention to a slender cut marring her face—a wound that was unveiled as she turned towards the fire, how he didn’t notice it the second she had joined him escaped him, it bothered him that he hadn’t seen it straight away, he almost felt guilty. His instinct urged him to reach out, to bridge the gap and address the injury that seemed to scream for attention. Yet he restrained himself, settling back into the shadows with a quiet resolve. "When she's ready, she'll confide in me," he told himself, the thought more a plea to convince himself rather than a conviction.

"I… I was out with Highwing," y/n finally murmured, her voice a soft echo in the room. "There was… something I had to tend to, a matter related to the trials. We encountered some poachers, a couple of goblins—nothing more." But her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths, and Sebastian's intuition screamed in silent alarm deep within him.

The crackling fire no longer commanded her attention as she turned to gauge Sebastian's reaction, searching his face for signs of doubt. She hoped he'd let the matter slide, and as if sensing her silent plea, he simply nodded, acceptance flickering in his eyes. "You know, if there's anyone capable of giving poachers a run for their money, it's you, y/n," Sebastian remarked, the softness in his smile reaching his eyes.

Her response was a half-hearted echo of his grin, her eyes locking with his for a fleeting moment. "Thanks, Sebastian. It means a lot, you know? Having someone believe in me when everything here is still so relatively new," she murmured, the vulnerability in her voice brushing against the silent space between them.

Sebastian's chuckle broke through the heaviness, his smile widening, a shared moment of lightness taking the edge off his earlier worry. "Not believe in you? Come on, you had me outmatched from day one. Anyone who can do that is destined for greatness." His words teetered on the edge of sentimentality, and he quickly steered the conversation back with a playful challenge. "But, since I've been demoted to second-best, courtesy of you, you owe me an adventure. It's only fair, right?"

There was a teasing tone to his voice, but behind it lay his sincere desire to join her, not just for the thrill, but to ensure her safety—something he couldn't admit just yet.

The suggestion drew a soft, airy laugh from her as she rose to her feet, sidestepping the deeper implication of his words. "Next time, maybe, Sallow," she deflected with a lightness she didn't feel, sensing the undercurrents of concern that both of them were dancing around. "But for now, I'm off to bed. We've got Hecat first thing, and you better not be up all night either. Promise me you'll get some rest too?" "Promise," Sebastian nodded, the care in her voice buoying him a touch, though it couldn't fully brush off the thought of her concealed injuries. "Go on, then. Get some sleep, y/n. I'll meet you here in the morning before class."

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The next day had come all too soon, the cool morning breeze wisped around the castle grounds as the rising sun’s glow cascaded over every inch it could touch. A fragment of the golden glow broke through the dark water that sloshed against the large windows within the common room — causing the room to have more of a glow than usual.

Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, the freshly made bedding underneath trapped between her fingers as she pulled and twisted at the thick fabric subconsciously, deep in her thoughts; she felt almost glued to the bed, her eyes stuck focused on one point on the floor in front of her as her thoughts ran rampant within her.

The sleep that she had promised Sebastian hadn’t come as she had hoped, instead, she had spent the last of the night tossing and turning, arguing with her inner thoughts, overthinking every detail and thought that crossed her mind.

She would love nothing more than to have Sebastian come with her, to have Sebastian by her side every time she left the castle, but she knew that no matter what; great danger would always be waiting right around the corner for her — not a single situation so far had proven anything different. She wondered if she would be able to live with herself if anything happened to Sebastian, but what didn’t cross her mind — Would Sebastian be able to live with himself if something happened to her and he wasn’t there to help her? Or save her?

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by the heavy dormitory door being pushed open and spoke a voice, causing her to jump from her sitting position and almost out of her skin. “Aren’t you coming y/n?” said the voice as a head peaked through the door, the head of Imelda Reyes. “You know Sallow is waiting for you down there, he seems to be under the impression you aren’t coming to class.” she continued, entering the room. “You know how Sebastian is… Not a man with a lot of patience, now is he.” y/n replied swiftly, hoping to avoid discussion as to why Sebastian thought as much, the last thing she needed was someone else asking questions.

Imelda waited for y/n as she grabbed her robes and wand she had left on her beside the locker before following Imelda out of the dormitory and down the winding hallway that led to the common room. The two girls walked in silence, the only sound being their steps across the metal flooring mixed with the light morning chatter of sleepy students coming from the common room some distance away. “What are you doing tonight?” Imelda asked suddenly, catching y/n off guard. “Tonight? Why?” y/n responded without turning to look at Imelda, her brain suddenly coming up with all types of scenarios, her anxiety slightly spiked as she waited for Imelda to spit out her reasoning.

“Well, you’re the only one who feels like a competition out on the pitch y/n, you’re getting better. You can almost keep up with me, so even though Quidditch is cancelled this year, maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me practice? I need someone who pushes me… Anyone else and it would be too easy… You’ll get some experience out of it too, and you might be ready for Quidditch tryouts next year.” Imelda quickly blurted out, completely unaware of how laced with ego her words were, but y/n knew it wasn’t intentional. Imelda wasn’t afraid to let people know she knew what her strengths were, and she never downplayed them for anyone, and that was something y/n admired in her.

“I really wish I could Imelda” y/n said softly as they cascaded down the steps and towards where Sebastian and Ominis sat talking between themselves. “I haven’t gotten around to Sharp’s assignment yet, and I haven’t gotten a chance for Hecat’s assignment yet either, I wish I could help you out, Imelda but I just don’t have the time tonight.” y/n finished, throwing Sebastian a pleading look once she realised he was watching them approach. “Well, what about this weekend? Any assignments we get today won't take the whole weekend to do” Imelda continued, stopping in her tracks once they reached the couches where the boys sat. Imelda perched herself on the arm of the couch, her eyes bore into y/n’s, almost as if she was trying to get into y/n’s mind to make her agree, but before she could even give Imelda an answer, Sebastian had realised the conversation y/n was trying to wiggle out of, knowing she couldn’t tell Imelda the truth.

“I mean, she would love to help you Imelda, but we’ve got plans this weekend, so unfortunately you might have to pick one of the other students, even if they don’t hold a candle to y/n’s skill” Sebastian said as he walked over to stand beside y/n, a smile on his face which y/n returned with a soft smile, grateful for his swift thinking. Imelda opened her mouth quickly to argue with Sebastian, probably to say how practising for Quidditch next year is more important, but Ominis was the next person to protest against Imelda’s arguments; but not for the same reason as Sebastian—Ominis simply didn’t want to listen to their conversation.

“You know Imelda, maybe more people would want to practice with you if you didn’t speak down to them and act as if you were a gift from Merlin himself. You’ve no chance of changing their minds, you’ll learn, as well as I, that there’s no changing their minds once they’ve decided something, together.” The way Ominis spoke left a feeling of bubbling guilt between Sebastian and y/n as they exchanged looks. Was that really what Ominis thought? Y/n began to worry that her and Sebastian’s adventures so far were driving a wedge between Ominis and Sebastian, the last thing she would want would be to cause a rift between the two lifelong best friends, but a nudge to her arm pulled her from her thoughts and she looked up to meet Sebastian’s gaze. He just shook his head lightly, indicating for her to not start overthinking Ominis’ words.

Imelda rolled her eyes at what Ominis had to say, but she didn’t have a retort for him; instead, she turned her attention back to y/n and Sebastian. “Well. Enjoy your adventures. Don’t come crying to me when you need someone to fly with y/n” The snark from Imelda was natural, something anyone who knew her was used to; even y/n already understood despite her short time at the school. “Oh, Imelda you know that’s not-” y/n began to speak, but Imelda was quick to shut her down, her willingness to talk back to y/n but not Ominis didn’t go unnoticed. “Save it, I don’t have time. Some of us have actual responsibilities. I’ll see you in class.” Imelda snapped as she turned to leave, her nose turning even more upwards than it had been in its natural position, leaving the three friends in silence.

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“She’s going to kill me the next time I turn down practising with her.” y/n said as she walked with the two boys towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, she knew she’d definitely get an earful from Hecat over not having the assignments, so being late wasn’t an option. “Surely the girl who beat me at Crossed Wands can put up a fight against Imelda unless she had something to hide about our duel..? Maybe, Felix Felicis?” Sebastian said, turning his head and giving her a look, a sly smile on his face. Anyone who didn’t know him would think this was a real accusation, that he was genuinely accusing her of cheating in their match—but his two closest friends knew it was just lighthearted banter.

“Oh please Sebastian, you know I didn’t know how to brew Felix Felicis back then, tell him Ominis, I won fair and square.” y/n said, looking between the two boys. “She’s not wrong Sebastian, she had only just gotten to Hogwarts, she probably didn't even know that potion existed. She won out of skill, like she said, fair and square” Ominis said tauntingly, getting a scoff from Sebastian. “Well, she’s had actual help and time with professors to learn! Oh, leave it..” Sebastian finally said defeatedly. He would have been annoyed at what Ominis was saying if it hadn’t been about y/n, hearing that he just wasn’t good enough to win did sting him a bit.

They left the warmth of the castle, the cool autumn breeze ran over the friends as they made their way through the grounds of Hogwarts. As they crossed the Viaduct courtyard, y/n noticed the decorations that seemingly appeared overnight. Cobwebs seemed to be hanging on arches, doorways and corners, pumpkins lay strewn about in a range of sizes. Even the smaller decorations and candles had seemingly been placed in such a fashion that it almost transformed the feeling of Hogwarts, even in the morning time.

“Well, those little house elves were hard at work last night,” Sebastian said looking around at their passing surroundings as they crossed over the Viaduct Bridge. “They’re always hard at work… They never get a break.” Ominis muttered, his voice low. The two other friends exchanged glances, knowing where Ominis’ sudden attitude change came from. For a Gaunt, Ominis’ views were unheard of.

The Gaunt’s were cruel.

They were descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, their heritage and lineage were of utmost importance to them. They had no time for Half-Bloods, and most definitely no respect for Muggle-Born witches and wizards. When it came to house elves, they were no different. They viewed the elves as nothing more than what their purpose served, and at that, there was no respect. Violence was common, physically and verbally, and that didn’t stop at house elves… Their obsession with blood purity, obsession with the Dark Arts, their sadistic ‘hobbies’ Ominis hated everything about their beliefs and what they did, choosing to have his own set of beliefs instead. Any time Ominis spoke about his family, it was never positive. Y/n knew there was more to his story, but she didn’t want to press him about his family and the Dark Arts; knowing the subject would be sensitive.

Y/n hated hearing her friends sound anyway upset, she racked her brain for something to say, to maybe comfort him somehow. “I agree Ominis” she said, placing her hand lightly on his arm as they continued into the Astronomy Wing of Hogwarts. “..but Hogwarts is the best place for them. If they were left to their old masters, who knows what could happen to them.” her voice matched the soft, sensitive nature of the conversation. However, as soon as her hand reached his arm, Sebastian had become all too aware of it. A strange feeling started brewing inside of him as he watched and listened to them. Was he jealous? Was her hand on his arm more than a friendly touch? Sebastian’s mind filled with questions, questions fueled by his sudden jealousy. “I know, I know, but there’s not much comfort in knowing they are still being worked to death,” Ominis spoke glumly, y/n looked sympathetic towards his feelings, and Sebastian wanted to know why it bothered him so. “That’s all they know Ominis, at least they’re safe here..” y/n said, her hand dropping from his arm, not knowing what else to say to ease Ominis’ pointed feelings on the topic. Sebastian felt calmed when her hands dropped to her sides, but now he had to face the fact he was jealous, and over such a small thing. They walked in silence up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, unsure of where to take the conversation after it hit such a sensitive tone.

“Hecat’s going to have my head you know.” y/n said trying to divert the conversation, and their moods. Sebastian and Ominis both let out a small laugh at her sudden statement. “You didn’t finish your assignment?” Ominis asked, almost as if he was disappointed in her. Y/n shook her head as they crossed the marble flooring and up the right staircases and corridors to reach Hecat’s classroom. “Well, someone was out all night causing trouble,” Sebastian said giving y/n a knowing look, a slight smirk played on his face. “Maybe she will let me hand it in late? If I tell her some of what I was doing? Surely she’d understand right” y/n asked, unsure of how Hecat would handle the situation.

Ominis just shrugged before he spoke, “I wouldn’t know. I like to get my assignments in on time.” y/n just smiled before rolling her eyes, “Gee, thanks Ominis. That is a great help” she said jokingly. Sebastian took the situation a little more seriously, since he knew more than Ominis about what she had been doing.*

“What are you going to tell her?” Sebastian asked, looking down at her. “What if you just tell her you were out gathering supplies or something, and you got into some trouble? She can’t disprove it, and it’s not really a lie, you’re just… withholding the full story. Plus, you still have that cut on your face still too so surely she’ll believe you..” Sebastian said in a hushed voice, genuinely trying to help her situation. A sigh left her as they approached the classroom, “I guess we’ll find out won’t we..” She said, opening the classroom door and entering, Sebastian and Ominis behind her.

As usual, they were the last few students to walk in besides a couple of stragglers that waltzed in after them. The class was lively, chatter coming from every direction as students spoke among themselves. Ominis walked and took his usual seat in the middle of the class, not bothering to speak to anyone, instead just preparing his belongings for class, the thought of his family heavy on his mind again. Sebastian perched himself on top of his desk at the back of the class, preparing for the incoming babble and nonsense as he watched Garreth Weasley approach him. y/n on the other hand made a direct beeline for the steps up to Professor Hecat’s study, repeating the excuse in her brain. She knocked on the door lightly and it was just a few seconds before the door opened and a voice spoke gently. “Come in, come in” said the older voice, y/n followed her instructions and walked into the little room above the classroom. “Professor Hecat, would you have a few moments?” y/n asked, her voice unwavering but she was still nervous nonetheless.

Hecat turned from the array of books she was sorting, directing her attention fully to y/n. “Of course, what is it Ms. y/l/n?” Hecat asked, raising an eyebrow slightly at the girl's words, stepping closer to her student. “I, I don’t have the assignment Professor” y/n said while looking at the ground, she looked up at her professor before continuing; “I intended to finish it last night but-” Hecat cut swiftly across her sentence; “but you thought you could come with excuses instead of the assigned work?” Hecat asked, her hands crossing over themselves in front of her. Hecat examined her student’s reaction to her words, suddenly noticing the mark on y/n’s cheek. “Merlin, what happened to you child? You’re hurt” Hecat said almost in a distressed voice, y/n simply just continued on her ramble in hopes Hecat would let her finish. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Professor. While I was out, we came across a poacher camp. I couldn’t leave without doing something, and I understand my studies are important..” y/n spoke fast, but Hecat listened to every word, just as y/n hoped; she prayed Hecat would understand the excuse she had, considering Hecat’s past of fighting poachers.

“But with all due respect Professor, I won’t let poachers or any other horrible person get away with their actions just so I can do an assignment” The words came from her before she even could think about them, it was kind of what she wanted to say; but it came across a lot more disrespectful than she expected, or so she thought.

Hecat’s face remained stoic as she took in her student's last few words, giving the impression that she was not happy. Suddenly a small smile cracked across her face as she looked at y/n. Hecat had not expected such a valid excuse in her mind, never mind expect such with passion, conviction and sincerity. Hecat merely nodded, her smile never once fading now. “I’ll give you until our next lesson, I see no reason to punish you for something I would have done as a student, someone’s got to do something about that lot,” Hecat said, her voice was light now, almost as if what y/n had said to her reminded her of herself.

“Thank you Professor” y/n said as she turned around to leave the study, unsure of what else to say; this wasn’t the outcome she had expected. She reached just outside the door, on the balcony looking down at the class, her eyes instantly looked at Sebastian. Her heart began to race slightly as she realised he was looking directly back at her, ignoring whatever nonsense Garreth was spewing at him. Hecat’s voice calling her pulled her attention back from Sebastian, turning around once more to face the Professor. “Oh and Miss y/l/n? Next time you decide to take on poachers, be prepared. Never go wrong with carrying some essence of dittany with you as well as your usual potions” She took Hecat’s words seriously, nodding once again at the older woman. “Of course Professor, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

Y/n made her way back down the short flight of steps and across the classroom as she ran through the thoughts of how lucky she had gotten with Hecat, how lucky she had gotten that Hecat saw some of the young student in herself. She took a seat beside Sebastian, letting out a sigh of relief as she sank back into her chair. “I see you’ve still got your head.” Sebastian laughed, turning to look at her. “She was… Okay with it. I told her about the poachers and that seemed to work in my favour.” y/n said, the worry that was present in her voice before class was now gone, finally able to think of more important things than an assignment. The class passed by relatively slowly, but no student was surprised. Even in such an interesting class, theoretical studies were always dragging time along, seemingly never-ending. So once Hecat dismissed the class, students almost threw themselves out of the door to get to their next class in hopes that whatever was next was more lively.

Ominis left the class without a word to anyone, leaving Sebastian and y/n to throw each other worried glances. They knew better than to follow Ominis and hunt him for answers as to what was wrong, instead, they gathered their belongings and made their way from Hecat’s classroom, making their way back down to the Potions classroom.

“So, about our adventure,” Sebastian said, the two walking side by side across the hallways, they moved slightly every now and then when another student, or group, pushed their way past. “I was thinking we could go tonight, I don’t have much to get done and I’m sick of being in this castle.” Sebastian’s words were filled with hope, and something else that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“I don’t know Sebastian I-”

“Oh come on y/n, I’m not some fragile little thing that’ll get hurt the second we leave, I can defend myself you know.” Sebastian’s voice didn’t have its usual joking tone to it, causing y/n to look up at him while they walked.

“I never said you were Sebastian, I know you can but-” He cut her off again. “So it’s decided then. Tonight, we’re going on an adventure.” Sebastian’s voice was light again as he spoke, basically telling her rather than asking now. “Fine Sebastian. But we’re doing it my way. There’s something I have to do, so promise me you won’t do something reckless?” her words were serious, and a tone of defeat was lingering in her voice. “I promise y/n, we’ll do it your way.”

She didn’t know if he was being honest or just telling her what she wanted to hear, but she had accepted it, knowing Sebastian would not let it go, not until he got to come along with her. ‘This is the last thing I need..’' she thought to herself, as she mulled over the fact that any task would only be made more difficult with Sebastian there, his tendency to charge in guns blazing all of the time left little space for plans to be executed with stealth and precision was something y/n knew could be an issue and could possibly jeopardize the task at hand.

They walked the rest of the way to Potions without talking anymore about the topic, instead just talking together like normal friends, no talk of dark magic, no talk of danger or poachers, no dark wizards' name even graced their lips… It was something she wished was more common, but between her life and her friends that she held close; having a ‘normal’ friendship was off the cards. Between her two best friends, one a Gaunt who defied his family’s expectations, and the other with a longing for dark magic and power, she knew that the current flow of normal conversation wouldn’t last long; the trio were anything but regular students of Hogwarts.

Sebastian, Ominis and y/n all chose the same workstation, each friend on each side of the large table between them, a collection of cauldrons, ingredients and vials laid strewn about on every table; chatter was lively in the class as the students worked on their potions. Professor Sharp walked around the room, his injured leg causing his steps to falter occasionally as he made his rounds, not affected in the slighest. He inspected everyone’s potions, some gaining compliments; others causing him to say nothing more than a grunt before moving to the next. Ominis avoided joining much of the conversation as y/n and Sebastian discussed their plan for that night, y/n on the other hand didn’t delve too into detail about what she had to do, not wanting to speak about it in such a busy environment.

The potions class seemed to fly by relatively fast, some students received praise for their attempts at the potions; other students would have been lucky to be ignored by Sharp. One of those unlucky few students being Garreth Weasley. The trio looked up as they heard Sharp clear his voice as he approached Garreth, who was standing by his cauldron. The potion Garreth had brewed seemed to stench up the class the longer it brewed, the mixture seemed to expand in the cauldron before it swelled up; a large bubble formed on the top; shaping into a hand that seemed to reach for saving from the dreadful potion — the desperate potion’s stretched hand deflated with an amusing “poof”, the sound it made seemed like the last painful exhale from something that had been holding onto the last few seconds of it’s life before letting out that last, pathetic sound.

Garreth’s failure earned him a deep frown from Sharp. “Mr. Weasley, I cannot keep repeating myself. Please follow the instructions that are provided to you and refrain from your own… concoctions. You may yet still have time to pass this class and prove you’re not a failure. Please keep your own ‘potions’ for when you have mastered the simplest, yes?” Sharp said as he looked down at the ginger boy who was fighting off a frown of his own from falling upon his freckled cheeks.

Sebastian, Ominis and y/n couldn’t help but chuckle amongst themselves once they heard Professor Sharp’s words and watched Garreth’s attempt at the potion dissolve the shape it had taken and recoiled back into the large cauldron.

Professor Sharp had taken notice of the three best friends joking amongst themselves as he made his way towards their shared table, not failing to compliment Amit’s potion to a high extent as he passed by the table Amit shared with Garreth and Poppy— Amit always had a way of succeeding, even if it wasn’t a strength of his. He held himself to a high standard within his classes, so it was no surprise that this class was no exception.

The three friends subdued their light laughs and mutterings towards each other the closer that Sharp got, turning their attention back to the potions that had sat in front of them. Sharp didn’t speak a word as he made his way around the table, glancing at each of their brewings intently. They stood and almost held their breath — hoping that their potions, at minimum, were passable. A thoughtful ‘hmm’ left Professor Sharp as he stood up a little straighter after studying their potions. “For three who seemed most interested in watching others, you haven’t disappointed me completely” Sharp said in his usual indifferent tone, his eyes flittering between Ominis, Sebastian and y/n. “Next time, please pay attention to your own cauldrons and not other students,” Sharp said bluntly, causing y/n and Sebastian to look at each other. Professor Sharp turned his attention to Ominis fully now; “Well done Mr. Gaunt, I assume you’ve been practising? This potion is well brewed — Ten points to Slytherin.” Sharp said before he turned and made his way back to his desk. Sebastian and y/n turned to Ominis, a smile on each of their faces. Ominis hadn’t been the best at potions — but he was determined to overcome the struggle that came along with the class due to the pressure he applied to himself. A satisfied smile came across Ominis’ face upon hearing Sharp's words. A sense of contentment washed over Ominis as one of two friends spoke; “Nice work Ominis, I guess we should probably practice too” y/n said with a chuckle, genuinely happy that her friend managed to overcome a hurdle that he too often struggled with.

Luck had been on their side as the three had received compliments on their potions, clearly showing they had some skill when it came to the careful craft, but Professor Sharp didn’t hesitate to let them know they still were not up to his high-held standards, that they still had some growing to do within the area.

Once the class had tidied away their potions and cauldrons, returning ingredients and books to their rightful place, the rest of the day passed with surprising ease. Most of the classes seemed to pass swiftly, and the friends were not about to complain about that — all complaints had been reserved for their History of Magic class. The class dragged on as Professor Binns’ dull, monotone voice filled the room. The odd student took notes, and paid attention to the dry words that left the ghost professor's mouth, the rest of the students feigned interest. Some students watched Binns float as he lectured on, staring through the transparent man, and some passed notes (taking full advantage of the professor’s obliviousness). Sebastian sat with his head resting on his hand; his eyes fighting to stay open. Ominis sat in silence, his gaze turned towards the window as he let Binns’ lecture float by his ears — his mind elsewhere. Y/n’s energy to the class was not much different, her body language showed she was listening intently to Binns’ words, but rather her mind was somewhere else — somewhere far away.

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As nightfall came, the usual hustle and bustle of the castle quietened down, most students now working on assignments, while others wandered about the castle or loitered around talking to friends. The only chaotic noises to break the relaxed environment and subdued chatter came when some of the ghosts of Hogwarts flew past, Peeves was tormenting a couple of first years, and the usual screams and shouts of Eddie Cleaver rang through the halls as he wisped past.

Outside of the castle, the Halloween decorations came even more to life, the candles cast their golden, warm hue upon parts of dark passageways, corners of the courtyards, casting an a beautiful but ominous glow over the decorated areas — the aura hanging on each of the old stones of the castle radiated halloween charm.

Where festive scenes were lacking, there was one student, beyond the walls of the castle, beyond the care of Halloween decorations. Flying above the Forbidden Forest was a large creature with a small figure on its back. The autumn breeze blew past y/n as she perched on Highwing, she took in every sight below her, taking advantage of her high vantage point. She knew this task wasn’t going to be easy, she knew this was where danger truly lay. Highwing and the girl made their way lower to the ground before Highwing began to gracefully saunter through the forest, the creature knew of every twist and turn within the treacherous forest. Y/n’s senses were on high alert as all sorts of noises happened around her, but she and the Hippogriff continued on, not willing to be shaken or have her focus thrown off.

Back in the safety of Hogwarts, Sebastian stood outside of the Slytherin common room, frustration bubbling in him. Y/n had been an hour late meeting him and it bothered him deeply. He marched briskly up the steps leading to the main part of the castle, praying in his mind that she would be around the corner — though his silent pleas had not been answered. Instead when he rounded the corner, to his surprise, he saw Ominis sitting on one of the seats near the entrance to the library, his wand in hand and a rather thick book in the other.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here?” his voice was confused as his attention to the book he held dropped. “I thought you were going on your adventure?” Ominis’ voice was heavy, his tone dropping at the last word. “I was but, Y/n. She was meant to meet me outside the common room an hour ago. I’ve been looking all over for her.” Sebastian sighed, approaching his friend. “What?” Ominis asked bluntly, suddenly a tone shifted in his voice to slight concern. “Sebastian, she left already. I passed her before she as she was on her way, she said you were meeting near the forest.” Ominis finished his sentence, the genuine concern now present in his voice. “She said what?! She intentionally left without me? And lied? Why-” Sebastian was now full of emotions, a mix of worry, concern and a tinge of anger that she would lie to him, that she would leave him behind; Sebastian’s thoughts and emotions were then flickering all over the place.

“You don’t think, do you, Sebastian? She doesn’t want to drag you into trouble, or danger.” Ominis said knowingly, and he was right, she didn’t want to but Sebastian in any dangerous, or stupid, situation — but this logic didn’t sit with Sebastian in the slightest. “So it’s okay for her to run towards danger alone but not with me?” Sebastian’s voice showed all of his emotions at once, causing Ominis’ eyebrows to rise and a sigh to leave him before he spoke.

“She just doesn’t want you getting hurt Sebastian.”

“And I don’t want her getting hurt, but she doesn’t care about what I want, so why should I care about her wanting to go it alone?” Sebastian had a good point that even Ominis couldn’t argue against, and Ominis didn’t argue his friends point; instead what he spoke next was the quite opposite.

“Then go after her Sebastian, she was heading to the forest. She seemed flustered when we met, she was quite anxious…” Those were all the words Sebastian needed for his mind to decide his next course of action. “I’ll talk to you later Ominis,” Sebastian said as he turned on his heel and began to jog briskly from his friend before he began to run towards the large doors that were at the end of the large hall, every fibre of his being told him something was wrong.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n was quiet and careful with every step she took. Her wand was held tightly in her hand, ready for anything. She took note of the surroundings, seeing what she could use to her advantage. Just on the edge of where the poachers set up camp, was a clearing, giving a view of the night’s starry sky over the hill’s ledge. She thought about being able to cast the poachers off the steep edge that looked over the forest, she took note of where the forestry ended, the last thing she would want is to end up burning down an entire magical forest. To her advantage, the trees stopped just before the encampment, allowing for the use of fire spells; a favourite of y/n’s.

She watched from behind the bushes as poachers spoke to each other about plans, not knowing of the student who lurked not far from their camp. She stepped quietly across an opening in the trees, Highwing not far from her. Highwing’s safety was a major concern to her, even in such a tense moment. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to the creature.

“What will we do with the egg?” said a poacher, y/n’s head snapped around the tree to get a better view. “Cage it, don’t know if it’ll hatch. Keep it safe. That’s a lot of money.” said another poacher with a laugh, y/n’s stomach twisted at the sound of capturing and selling any creature or egg. “How d’ya reckon they managed to capture that beast ‘nyway? Nowt’ easy ‘bout a Horntail, ‘n’ bet a few of ‘em ended up crispy” said a poacher who sat by the fire that burned in the middle of the camp. There were a few tents set up around the area, all around the fire. Cages were all over the ground, some empty, and a couple contained little Nifflers that looked terrified, Y/N’s heart cracked as she saw the full scene, but her mind was now in overdrive.

A Horntail? Captured? How? This added a whole new layer to everything going on, added something else that she felt that she needed to take care of. The thoughts of her initial reasoning for being out that night swarmed her mind, now with the added stress of releasing the Nifflers and a dragon egg. Her mind spun with solutions to the situation that seemingly got more dire the longer it dragged on.

She couldn’t stand there anymore, looking at the creatures and listening to the horrible conversations between the poachers.

As poachers continued to talk about the dragon amongst themselves, y/n made her way closer to the camp, taking a mental note of where every poacher was located. She glanced back at Highwing who stood proudly in the shadows, the Hippogriff took another step forward. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, afraid Highwing would catch the attention of the poachers. ‘I should have never brought her’ y/n thought to herself, swearing at her own stupidity and recklessness, thinking now she may have put Highwing in danger too — that Highwing would draw attention. Thankfully, as if Highwing would read her mind, the creature didn’t make a sound, and y/n pressed on, relieved.

She noticed a lone poacher close to her, his back turned to the student. She closed the gap between them while raising her wand, a whisper then left her lips, only loud enough for the incantation to work; “petrificus totalus”

The lone poacher seized up as if frozen before his body dropped to the ground. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief once he was down, ready to approach the rest of the camp. She took note of the three poachers that were left, thinking to herself; “only three, okay..” She had dealt with more than three poachers in the past, so this didn’t cause her any concern. Instead of taking a tactful approach, she took advantage of how little poachers were at the camp.

She leapt from the shadows pointing her wand directly at the poacher that sat by the fire. “Depulso!” she shouted, a blast of light came from her wand, directly hitting the poacher and sending him flying into the high burning fire that once provided a source of warmth for the poachers — and now it was being used for their demise. His screams filled the air, even as his body was engulfed in the flames, his screams were still audible but now mixing with the sound of the fire crackling in an attempt to break down the foreign mass of skin and bone that had been forced into its core.

The remaining two poachers were suddenly caught off guard as turned to see her standing there, her Hogwarts robes billowing in the breeze that drifted by — but the robes were a dead giveaway as to who she was, a situation she had not predicted happening. “You!!” shouted a poacher, his wand quickly got drawn as he got prepared to fight. “Confringo!” came from the poacher, a burst of fire headed straight for y/n, she quickly rolled out of the way, barely missing the intense attack that had been directed at her.

Her heart began to beat faster, and she realised she made a mistake wearing her robes; now giving everyone a sign that she was the student causing trouble for them, the student that Rookwood was pursuing rather intently. She ran across the camp, firing at both poachers but neither seemed to b giving up or dropping anytime soon. Neither she nor the poachers gave up their relentless casts, and the situation only seemed more dire when a couple of more figures started approaching. Y/n noticed this and she panicked, causing her to almost get hit with a powerful cast of Reducto that someone just fired at her.

“Highwing!” she yelled, not seising her casts or wand movements once, “Get out of here! GO!” she screamed at the Hippogriff to leave her behind, knowing if more poachers came that they wouldn’t hesitate to try take the creature — or worse. Highwing hesitated, watching the student who cared for her so much fight off the oncoming attack from multiple directions. “NOW HIGHWING!” y/n screamed, her voice breaking as she deflected a jinx hurling towards her. Highwing didn’t take another second before sprinting out of the forest, understanding the urgency of the situation. The Hippogriff’s heart was now beating fast as she ran back through the forest and towards the school — hoping to catch someone’s attention, anyones attention that could help.

Y/n kept fighting and dodging curses, not stopping for a second. She knew if she didn’t put her everything into this, she wouldn’t be coming out of this fight, not alive anyway.

“Reducto!” she got a hit on a poacher that was moving closer to her, the man suddenly burst into nothing but ash that lingered in the air before settling on the ground, every atom of the poacher was simply reduced to nothing but specks of grey that settled on the ground where he once stood.

Despite her success so far, it had seemed to her as if every time one poacher went down, another appeared in the last’s stead. Frustration began building in her as she did everything she could to try to keep her mind focused on the fight, but as soon as she found it, the focus was snatched away with blunt force. Y/n’s full attention was pulled from the fight by a swirling stream of purple smoke that twisted its way to the ground, as the smoke dissapated, y/n got a clear view of who had just joined the fight, and the stakes were raised tenfold when she realised who had just joined the fight. “You’re the little bitch Rookwood wants!” shouted a scratchy female voice, the insult cutting through the air like a knife.

Ashwinders…

Y/n cast a quick protego shield as the poachers kept their attack going, she knew she had to get out of this and fast. Her mind ran through spells, jinxes, curses anything that would give her a leg up on the competition now but it seemed almost impossible, her knowledge finally halted her, leaving her with little choice. She kept letting off fire spells one after another, the bombardment somewhat helped the odds of the fight be in her favour for a moment — just a moment. A familiar swirling sound was light upon y/n’s ears. She forced herself to pay no heed to the sound, until a second purple tornado-like smoke appeared before spreading. Once the violet smoke disappeared, in it’s wake stood another Ashwinder, this one seemingly larger than the first.

“Petrificus totalus!” shouted the new Ashwinder, this time a male voice came from the Duelist. He landed a perfect hit on her without much effort, causing her entire body to freeze up. She had lost complete control of her body as her wand fell from her hand and landed by her feet. She was completely defenceless. She screamed obscenities in her mind, unable to open her mouth even the slightest bit. She was done for. Her body didn’t even have a chance to fall and hit the ground before another spell was cast at her now statue-like body. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

She was at the complete mercy of the Ashwinders and the last remaining poachers, the poachers were clearly exhausted from the fight, retreating away from the duelist who now walked closer to the camp. The Ashwinder that cast the Levitation charm pulled y/n closer to them as they closed the distance, leaving her suspended in the air, frozen, unable to defend herself. “Do you realise how much of a nuisance you’ve been? How many problems you’ve caused for us?!” screamed the male of the duellists, his voice was full of venom and hatred, and at that moment y/n truly feared for her life.

“Well no more! No more stupid little brats thinking they can stop us!” the Ashwinder controlling her lowered Y/n so he could stare directly into her eyes as he spoke with his cruel voice. Y/n had no option but to listen, to hang onto every word spat at her.

The looming female Ashwinder began walking towards her accomplice and the frozen student. Once again the scratchy, female voice spoke while stepping up to the suspended girl; “…and when your little friends hear about how we tortured you, how you begged for your life before we ripped you to shreds, they’ll learn not to interfere. They’ll learn their place. Like Rookwood says, ‘Children should be seen and not heard’” the female Ashwinder continued in her vicious, venom-laced voice. The Ashwinders were wholly and completely unaware of the tiny bit of information she had just given y/n, and she knew exactly what she was going to do with it if she got out alive… Even in that moment, she forgot about the threat to her life; only thinking about what the female Ashwinder had just said, information that could help Sebastian and his sister. 'Children should be seen and not heard'

A poacher suddenly appeared, pulling an empty cage with him. The cage wasn’t much bigger than what a couple of Niffleres were in, but that wasn’t something that either the Ashwinders or poachers cared for. “Someone get a word to Rookwood! Tell him we got the little bitch.” said the female Ashwinder as she glanced at the cage, ideas running rampant through her head. “..until then, we’ll have some fun, wont we girl?.” Y/n was suddenly dropped to the ground, but her still frozen body was then shoved into the cage, the girl left completely defenceless, completely overrun with terror.

The remaining poachers and the Ashwinders watched as y/n lay motionless in the cage, finding no amusement in the idea of caging her anymore, not when she couldn’t express her fear, not when she was quiet. Y/n saw the female duellist raise her wand once more, suddenly casting at y/n with something she couldn’t defend herself against; even if she had her wand.

“Crucio!”

There was a split second before the curse hit her that allowed her mind to register the curse and the bright green sparks that emanated from the tip of the Ashwinder’s wand.

The pain was unbearable, y/n’s body was no longer frozen; the Unforgivable Curse that was cast on her overpowered the weak-by-comparison charm. A searing pain washed over her entire body, feeling as if every inch of her skin was set on fire; it felt like a million cuts all over her body that were being cleaned with pure alcohol. The pain caused her to writhe in the cage, her body tensing and dropping, and tensing again. The only sound that came from her was sounds of pain, screams that pierced the night air rang out through the forest, the pain didn’t feel like it was ever going to stop and when it did, the relief didn’t last long before the curse was cast on her again, this time even more painful. Her screams reached a pitch she didn’t think possible, the screams were so bloodcurdling that they set her own hair on edge, anyone nearby surely would think there was a banshee wandering about.

She wanted to beg, to plead for them to stop, but the more she tried to make words come out, the more intense the pain soaring over her body got and the more she in turn screamed.

Some distance away, Sebastian walked towards the Forbidden Forest, his ears caught a scream, a scream that sent a shiver down his spine, and his blood ran cold when it broke through the air. “Y/N!” he said to himself, panic rushed over him as his feet began moving faster, Sebastian was now sprinting towards the sounds. He was so focused on following the directions of the screams and watching the ground for obstacles he had to divert around, that he didn’t notice the white creature heading toward him until it was too late.

His body fully collided with Highwings strong body, knocking him backwards. Highwing took notice of Sebastian and reared on her back legs, trying her best to signal him distress. He didn’t even think about standing back up, panic flooded his voice; “Highwing?!” he knew if Highwing was alone, those screams definitely came from y/n. Highwing was stressed, cries came from the creature, almost begging him to understand her as he stood back up to his feet, ensuring his wand was with him. “I know, I know Highwing! It’s okay, I’ll find her okay? I promise I’ll find her” he didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or the Hippogriff that was in front of him. He stroked Highwing’s chest signalling for her to calm down, the intensity of the situation and his determination to save her made Highwing and Sebastian forget they hadn’t ever met properly, the Hippogriff uncharacteristically trusted him straight away.

“I need to go, I have to find her” Sebastian said hurriedly as he stepped away from her, continuing on his path to find y/n. Highwing let out a neigh before following him, she then overtook him as if to lead him to the poacher’s camp. He knew Highwing shouldn’t be near the poachers, but he wasn’t about to try to tell a Hippogriff what to do, especially not at such a critical time. Instead, he followed her heavy footsteps through the forest, winding around corners and trails after the Hippogriff.

Screams rang close by to where the boy and the creature, stopping them dead in their tracks, y/n was close by — quite close. “Please Highwing, stay here. Stay safe. I’ve got this.” Sebastian said in a nervous but confident voice. Highwing’s head bowed, acknowledging his wishes which took him by surprise.

The distinctive sound of screams disappeared, but only for a moment. The harsh Ashwinder’s voice was audible from where they stood. “CRUCIO!!” this time it was screamed with pure hatred. Sebastian instantly snapped his head in the direction of the camp, now knowing where exactly to go — his hastened steps taking him to the location of the screams.

Y/n wanted to beg, to plead for them to stop, but nothing but harrowing screams could leave her mouth, tears streamed down her face and she finally felt defeated; finally met her match. In that moment she wished for it to be over, wished for the pain to end at any cost, but it never did. The excruciating pain only ever stopped for a single moment until another round of the torture curse was thrust upon her. Y/n felt her mind drift from her, she was unable to think of anything anymore, unable to focus on anything but the pain; not even thoughts of Sebastian could break their way through the brutalising pain that the Ashwinders cast on her.

From out of the blue, an explosion erupted from the camp, debris from a tent flew in every direction. The remaining poachers and the male Ashwinder were the first ones to act in retaliation, turning their full attention to the cause of the explosion. The female Ashwinder on the other hand, kept her focus on y/n, clearly enjoying inflicting pain on the student — revelling in her screams and cries rather than the idea of joining in on the combat just yet.

Sebastian walked into the camp as debris fell around them, the fire that had caught on the tent fabric now burned intensely around them, but it didn’t bother Sebastian in the slightest. He didn’t so much as flinch as he stepped through stray flames on the ground, the fiery atmosphere seemed as if it motivated him even more. He was enraged. He set his sights on one of the poachers who was preparing an attack, but Sebastian was quicker. “Diffindo!” Sebastian’s cast caught the raggedy-looking poacher, the spell’s power sliced through the man as if it were a knife and he was just a sheet of paper, the poacher fell to a lifeless pile on the ground; his fatal injuries directly across his stomach that split him into two caused blood to run and stain the ground around him.

The female Ashwinder that had been intently torturing y/n looked up from the writhing and contorting girl in the cage, the anger radiating from the duelist was imminent, but Sebastian’s anger was more. “Oh look. One of your little friends has come to see the show,” spoke the raspy-voiced woman. Y/n’s eyes drifted towards the camp’s entrance, catching sight of Sebastian firing off at the surrounding poachers, making quick work of them. The Ashwinder considered her next course of action for a split second, toying with her options of joining in the fight or torturing the girl.

Just as the poachers dropped, two more swirls of purple smoke slammed into the ground, and Sebastian’s eyes snapped around the camp. He was determined to not let them get the better of them. Once the female poacher realised there were more Ashwinders for reinforcement, she knew what she would do next, try and fluster the student who had just so brazenly walked into the camp, thinking he was a match for them. The ego of the student was something that the Ashwinders hated, that a student thought he would be a threat to them.

But that was the Ashwinder’s undoing.

Underestimating Sebastian Sallow and hurting the ones he cared for was one way to write your death, one way to bring your death upon you in whatever way he saw fit. He could be unforgiving, he could be just as cruel as them, if not more.

“Crucio!”

Another wave was sent over y/n, just as painful as the last. Her screams didn’t care for her wanting to hold them back, so she didn’t distract Sebastian, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even fight the pain, even when he was right in front of her. “Sebastian!” she screamed his name,she was surprised for just a moment that his name rang out through the air, yet she was unable to get anything else out as she continued to convulse in the cage, causing her to hit off of the small prison she had been put in. Sebastian’s attention was instantly drawn to where the scream came from. What he saw sent him into a rage, his mind no longer considering a rational approach. His focus was tied to the female Ashwinder, and y/n could almost swear she saw someone other than Sebastian through her tears. Someone to fear. Someone who didn’t care about the repercussions of the actions he would take. Sebastian raised his wand, his intentions so clearly stated in his mind that he didn’t even have to speak a word as he cast at the Ashwinder.

In a turn of events, karma came in the form of Sebastian, the Ashwinder that had been getting so much satisfaction from torturing y/n had folded to the ground, now letting out her screams of pain as she twisted and writhed around on the stone ground beneath her. Even in her own pain, even without him saying the incantation; y/n could tell that Sebastian cast crucio on the duelist. The power required to do such a thing, she knew right now Sebastian had one intent on his mind — but it didn’t bother her, for all of that moment when the crippling pain dissipated she had felt something she had not in some time — relief. Relief from no longer being tortured, and the relief that came with Sebastian’s arrival to the horrific situation she had gotten herself into.

He turned his attention to the now-gathering Ashwinders that cast all types at him from the edge of the cliff. Sebastian dodged and deflected the mixed hues of green and red that flew at him, a sudden power in him unlocking in the heat of the battle. Sebastian held his wand aloft, his eyes glinted with the power that was building within him. Y/n watched as Sebastian moved his wand so elegantly through the air, she was unable to make out what incantation he said, but within a moment she all but knew, and worry came over her in the form of a tsunami.

From the very tip of his wand came fire, but not bursts as he had been casting previously. Instead, it streamed from his wand, his eyes followed the growing stream as it formed shape above and around him.

From her confined space, y/n could feel the intensity that cracked through the air, as harsh as a leather whip that came from hell itself. As Sebastian’s concentration deepened, the once fiery twists that streamed from his wand began to writhe and twist with the movements of his wand, it’s chaos seemed to find order under his control, but how? The flames had a life of their own, as if with each breath Sebastian took, so did the flames; each breath bringing it more to life than the last.

“Sebastian, no!” y/n yelled, hoping that she could stop him from casting such a devastating spell, but it was too late.

The Fiendfyre’s colour was a deep, malignant crimson that seemed to bleed its ominous glow on everything around, casting everything in a hellish glow. The Ashwinders, who once underestimated him were momentarily halted by the spectacle, caused by a student no less. They watched in horror, and fascination, as the flames above Sebastian’s head began to form shape. The fire had begun to grow and take form as the shape of a head formed, followed by a long sinuous body and a flickering tongue. The Fiendfyre serpent, a terrifying sight to see, hung in the air as its body looped and coiled, as if ready to attack at any moment.

Despite the fear that built up within y/n, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. Fiendfyre was known for its destructive properties, synonymous with ruin and its desire to consume everything in its path; including the caster, but as she watched, rather than their surroundings burning to the ground around them, the two students included, it seemed to be controlled by Sebastian with eerie precision. Despite the fear that built up within y/n, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight that came to life in front of her. Y/n, (and Ominis), knew that Sebastian felt a certain way about the dark arts and dark magic, she knew it was something he desired to learn about, to know how it worked, even how to weild it; but she didn’t know his interest would go to this extent. Oh no, this was far beyond her comprehension.

What would Ominis think if he witnessed something so unbelievable? Something so… Incredible. Something told her that Ominis wouldn’t find it the same awe–inspiring spectacle that she did, that he wouldn’t ever be open to the beauty in anything dangerous or related to the Dark Arts.

It was a clear demonstration of Sebastian’s hidden depths, the years of study and practice, and an undeniable connection to the Dark Arts he had that y/n had never fully appreciated, but was also a show of his determination, and dedication to the craft, but also of the lengths he would go to for those he cared about, the lengths he would go to for power… Sebastian had achieved something so unheard of, something that was considered even impossible; not just casting Fiendfyre, but bending it to his will, controlling the flaming serpent that paid homage to Salazar Slytherin; someone Sebastian revered for his affinity with the Dark Arts.

Her astonishment was complete as she watched Sebastian take control of the flaming serpent. In all the tales she had heard, Fiendfyre was a wild, uncontainable force of destruction, yet here it was, a testament to Sebastian's formidable power and dark affinity.

The spectacle before her was both stunning and terrifying.

As the Fiendfyre serpent hovered, a guardian beast conjured from flame and wrath, it was clear that the battle had shifted. With the serpent of fire at his command, Sebastian was not just a defender; he was a storm that couldn’t be controlled, reshaping the terror of the night into something he could be proud of. The serpent of fire seemed to pulse with a life of its own, its eyes glowing embers that locked onto the Ashwinders with a predator's gaze. The heat that emanated from it was oppressive, the air shimmering in waves that made the scene before her look like a mirage. Yet, this was no illusion; it was a vivid, terrifying reality.

Sebastian moved his wand with a fluidity that belied the danger of the spell he commanded. The serpent of Fiendfyre responded, its movements synchronised with his intentions. With a flick of his wrist, Sebastian directed the serpent, its body slithering through the air, weaving around the spells cast by the Ashwinders, creating a protective barrier of fire and fury around him. Not a single spell or jinx cast by the Ashwinders penetrated the serpent, the flames seemingly protected Sebastian, and and its focus was directly locked onto the Ashwinders.

As the Fiendfyre serpent surged forward, its fiery form twisted and contorted with sinister grace. With a menacing hiss, it lowered its head, the flames writhing and flickering like a serpent preparing to strike as the air around shimmered with its heat. Sebastian's control over the dark magic was palpable as he guided the serpent with precise movements of his wand.

With each command, the serpent responded, its burning eyes fixed on its targets with predatory intent; Sebastian’s eyes matched the serpents. What once seemed like just a reflection of the flames in his eyes was now something more; his eyes glowed with the same bright, fiery, scarlet flames as if his irises were consumed by the flames he produced.

Whisps of fire cracked from the serpent, as if threatening to drop its destructive touch on everything that surrounded them, to ultimately consume everything — but it did not give into it’s dangerous threats. It continued to follow the commands made by the male student, almost as if the Fiendfyre and Sebastian had a deeper connection — as if the troubled student and the chaos he controlled had an understanding of each other.

The fire serpent grew larger, as if standing tall and proud — a predator staring down its helpless prey. The foes that remained infront of Sebastian only had a moment to examine the power being shown right in front of them — they had lost their chance to flee once and for all. Y/n could only make out small moments from the now one-sided battle, her focus was intently tied to Sebastian and the Fiendfyre as her fear slowly melted away, as if the terrifying sight was the answer to all of the issues — no longer viewing the Fiendfyre as their demise.

In the blink of an eye, the serpents mouth opened; it’s jaws parted as it’s blazing fangs were on full display as it suddenly lunged forward with the command of Sebastian’s wand movements — with a simple flick of his wrist, the monstrosity darted through the air with the speed of light. How Sebastian controlled the fiery demon with such grace, such elegance, was something that those witnessing the events unfold could believe — especially not since he did it while anger raged inside of him, if not stronger than what he wielded. The scorching snake dashed across the camp that separated the Ashwinders from their imminent death. All y/n could make out was the blur of crimson and amber, along with its radiating and blazing heat that emminated from the fire beast as it darted past towards it’s prey, its mouth still agape, still baring its fierce fangs. The Fiendfyre was unrelenting once it reached its casters target, its widened mouth slamming shut around one of the Ashwinders with such force, that y/n could have sworn shockwaves were sent through the ground.

Sebastian continued to focus on the frenzy of fire that he commanded, each movement he made was graceful and intentful — like a dancer whoms body married the notes their body intertwined with — the attacks from him and the creature he controlled were just like master and puppet. Deliberate. Intentful. It didn’t take long for Sebastian and the Fiendfyre to make short work of the enemies who had underestimated him — their bodies no longer stood before him, the Fiendfyre had ultimately consumed their bodies — every atom of their beings had been ripped from existence. The serpent that had one stood strong, proud and dangerous retreated back from where it attacked the helpless duelists, and y/n couldn’t help but feel as if Sebastian’s control of the Fiendfyre might just fail as the battle ended. She expected the blazing form to disobey it’s caster, she expected it to lose it’s controlled form and spill its hot, lava-like fire until it consumed everything. To her shock, the Fiendfyre continued to obey Sebastian even though it wanted to break free, wanted to burn everything it possibly could.

The snake slithered back for one more proud stance in the air before its swelled size began to deflate — the fiery snake wove its way around Sebastian once more, as it twisted it soaked in the last few moments of fresh air it would get until he cast it again. It lost its solid shape, as it returned into the tip of Sebastian’s wand it melted back into it’s original form before disappearing completely. Once the conjured beast was completely gone, a spark came from the end of Sebastians wand. He barely acknowledged the spark that sigalled him that the cast was complete before he ran over to the cage that y/n had been stuffed into.

Sebastian noticed the lock on the cage hadn’t been locked — it reminded him of hearing the cruciatus curse, hearing her scream. Even though he had handed out karma, it didn’t make him feel any better. The unlocked cage just showed what the Ashwinders had intended; they didn’t lock it simply because they didn’t have to, because she would be able to leave even if she wanted to. He pushed the thoughts aside quickly before ripping the cage door open with such intensity y/n was surprised that it didn’t break away. Sebastian threw his wand aside as he turned his attention to getting her out of her confinments. His hands grabbed her legs which were closest to him and began to pull her from the cage as gently as he possibly could. Y/n couldn’t move a muscle besides the involuntary twitches her body made — a lingering affect of the repeated use of the Cruciatus curse on her, one that Sebastian hoped was only temporary.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” Sebastian said softly as his arm looped behind her knees, making it easier for him to fully pull her out of the cage. Sebastian sat down on the ground from the kneeling position he had been in as he pulled her body as close to him as possible between his outstretched legs. He put an arm around her shoulders to support her upper body as he held her close, his other arm wrapping around her too. “It’s okay, it’s over now… you’re safe, I’m here,” he said softly before resting his chin against the top of her head. He was just happy to have found her— while she was still breathing. Y/n body still ached from the curse being cast over and over, as if every drop of strength she once had was gone — now barely even able to sit herself up on her own, her upper body being supported by Sebastian, her head resting just at his shoulder as she sat between his legs, Sebastian had let the second arm that wrapped around her fall and moved her legs so they lay over one of his own spread legs so she was in a position that helped him hold her even closer — almost scared that if she wasn’t curled into him that he might lose her again.

Her voice was soft, and slightly weak when she spoke; “I’m sorry Sebastian-” her attempt at apologising for leaving Sebastian behind was cut short by a chorus of “shhh”s that came from him. His hand that had moved her legs then ran through the side of her hair as he placed a kiss atop her head in an attempt to sooth her, as well as himself. “Don’t apologise, please. You’re safe now,” Sebastian said with a light shaky voice, his chin resting on the top of her head, unwilling to let her out of the attempted embrace.

A sudden crack of a tree branch breaking, along with footsteps made Sebastian’s head snap in the direction it came from as his heart began pounding again while y/n felt a surge of fear when the sound rang through the air, instantly thinking of the situation she had barely just escaped not long ago, and she began to tremble slightly with fear.

Sebastian’s own mind went to the worst scenarios possible; more poachers, more ashwinders, some of Ranrok’s loyal goblins — but as quick as his mind presumed danger, the cause of the sounds stepped from the dark shadows into the camp. Sebastian had taken note of y/n’s slight shaking, her head turned into his chest and he began to try soothe her again. “Hey, it’s okay- it’s only Highwing,” Sebastian said softly as he stroked her hair again, his thumb brushed against her cheek occasionally — something that gave y/n a sense of warmth and comfort.

Highwing stepped into the camp and instantly saw Sebastian on the ground with y/n, and even the Hippogriff seemed worried at the sight of the two students as she stepped slowly and carefully across the camp towards the friends. As she grew closer, Sebastian noticed something in her mouth and he raised his eyebrow slightly to himself. Despite the light front the still burning campfire, it did little to help Sebastian pin-point what she was carrying. Y/n’s head rested against Sebastian’s chest as she turned her head ever-so-slightly to see the Hippogriff approaching slowly. As Highwing stood infront of the two friends, she bowed her head to them as she dropped what she was carrying from her mouth just by where y/n layed on Sebastian. “Looks like someone’s brought you something you may have lost,” Sebastian said with a smile as Highwing nudged the object closer with her beak.

On noticing it was a wand that Highwing carried over so diligently, Sebastian reached out the hand that once administered comforting touches to y/n, the other remained around her shoulders and picked up the wand, tucking it into the inside pocket of y/n’s robes for safety. A small smile danced across y/n face as Sebastian placed her wand away safe and turned her head slightly more to look at the loyal Hippogriff. “Thank you, Highwing,” she said, resulting in Highwing raising her head and letting out a satisfied sound before she lay back fully on the ground. Sebastian and y/n watched Highwing settle for a moment before y/n turned her attention back to Sebastian, looking up at him slightly as she took a moment to think about her words.

“And.. thank you, Sebastian… If you hadn’t had come I-” before she had a chance to get the next word out, Sebastian had cut her off. “Stop,” he said, the word was demanding but his voice was gentle as his hand ran through the side of her hair once more before resting on her cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had fallen from her eyes. “You don’t have to thank me. The most important thing is that you’re safe” Sebastian said as he looked at her with his brown eyes that seemed to make his gentle words seem even softer. As he spoke, his words caused her heart to swell. Sebastian’s voice was more gentle than usual, an inflection of a deeper care for her rang through his words leaving the two to share in a quiet moment before y/n broke the silence - not being completely sure how to approach the conversation.

“When you told me what you heard the day Anne was cursed… ‘children should be seen and not heard’..” she said in a soft voice, hoping to cushion whatever blow her words were about to have on him. She could feel Sebastian’s body tense up underneath her and noticed how the arm around her tensed as his jaw clenched. Sebastian’s heartbeat increased as a mix of anxiety, anger and anticipation bubbled within him - not speaking a word, rathering to let her say what she had to say. “..when the ashwinders had me, one of them said the exact same thing..” she paused for a moment, her own anxiety brewing at the thought of how Sebastian would react. “..they were quoting Rookwood, Sebastian.. Rookwood was there that day, he was the one to curse Anne..” she finally said as she looked up at him, gauging his reaction to her revealing the truth behind his sisters condition.

She had expected Sebastian to take the news badly, terribly even - and he would have been right to. Instead, Sebastian gave a small nod as his jaw remained clenched. He wanted nothing more than to go find Rookwood in that moment and make him pay.. To make him experience even a percentage of the pain and suffering his sister had no escape from. Despite his desire to go find Rookwood and do such unforgivable things, he knew in that moment y/n needed him, even if she wouldn’t admit it to him - or herself. He continued to hold her, his grip around her tightened ever-so slightly; a signal to her that despite his quiet demeanour, his mind was anything but.

Her soft hand being placed on his one of his anger-flushed cheeks pulled him from his thoughts long enough to notice her looking up at him, concern etched across her features. “…we will find him Sebastian, we’ll make him pay. I promise.” her words were flooded with sincerity and determination as she spoke, her eyes locked on his. Regardless of what she had just been through, it was clear that Sebastian and his sisters situation was a priority to her rather than her own wellbeing; her selflessness, her care and determination made Sebastian’s true feelings for her flourish more than they had already. A small smile tugged at the corner of Sebastian’s lips as he gave a gentle nod, not trusting his voice to not waver at her promise. Her words and touch soothed the anger that was twisting within him; it slowly being subdued by the emotions that came as a result of her tender actions.

The two sat there for a moment without speaking a word, instead they just looked into each other’s eyes as the campfire’s slowly dwindling flames cast a warm glow on them. It seemed like the rest of the world melted away around them, as if the Fiendfyre came back to life and swirled them in their own bubble. Every thing in that moment, from the breathing of Highwing who lay not far away to the sounds of nature around them, felt right. Y/n was so wrapped up in the moment, so lost in the brown eyes that bore into her own that she didn’t notice Sebastian’s free hand making it way up until it was placed on her cheek, his thumb grazed over her soft skin in such a gentle way that it made goosebumps wash over her skin. Not a single word was shared between the two, instead it felt like the two were the opposite end of magnets that drew closer to each other in slow motion. Her eyes flicked between his and his lips as his face drew closer to hers, both heartbeats sharing an increased speed as their breaths were slightly elevated against one another's. Everything seemed to move slowly as the distance between them decreased, the tension increased; anticipation bubbling under both of their skins until their lips finally met.

It felt like every firework in the world had been set off simultaneously the second his lips touched hers, for both of them. Sebastian's hand moved from cupping her cheek and ran through the side of her hair before stopping at the back of her head, their lips never parting once as they finally indulged in their once-hidden feelings towards each other.

Everything seemed at peace — even if just for a moment. No thoughts of dark wizards, or goblins intent on destroying the world, or the trip to St. Mungo's that y/n would undoubtedly require For just a moment, the two didn’t feel the pressures of the crumbling world around them, didn’t feel the pressure of all the odds being stacked against them. Instead, they let themselves melt into each others touch, revelling in the kiss that spoke volumes for them — the anxieties relating to their feelings for one another that they had both bottled and shoved aside all melted away.

It wasn’t a moment they would rush from, for the first time that year they felt a sense genuine relief and happiness wash over them, as if the pair had The Draught of Peace coursing through them.

It was a moment of genuine emotion, genuine connection between them - two kindred spirits coming together like dancing flames that grew as one as they intertwined with one another; and nothing could ever snuff out the spark.

(a/n; thank you guys for reading, hopefully it wasn't as bad as it is in my mind~ I'm gonna start posting more regular fics/one shots/scenarios I've been building in my head so keep an eye out💖)

💖Sebastian Sallow Taglist💖 @angel-anna @cyan1decandy (let me know if you want to be added for upcoming fics)

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underdevelopedangst · 2 days

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spectulation - aaron hotchner x reader

aaron confides in you his suspicions haley is cheating on him.

cw: bau!reader, takes place in s3 timeline - before the divorce, angst, mentions of adultery and unfaithfulness, aaron's sad but not really showing it (naturally), light foreshadowing that someday aaron and reader get together <3 wc; 1.2k

aaron's hands gripped the steering wheel and his stare was pointed forward, the atmosphere heavy in the car. grey clouds had been rolling in all morning, and now the rain was just beginning to fall, a light sprinkle pattering on the windshield.

the two of you had just frequented a crime scene, departing after a rather tense situation - one of the investigators had nearly disrupted the crime scene in a lazy wake, and aaron had thoroughly allowed him to know his mistake.

while aaron was always stern, it was... different this time.

"hotch?"

at his name, you managed to pull him from of his thoughts - you could tell by the way his jaw moved, his grip on the wheel ever so lightly loosening.

aaron didn't respond though; figuring he wasn't too keen on sharing whatever was on his mind, you put your focus out the window, watching the rain begin to slowly collect on the road.

"haley's cheating."

your head turned towards him in an instant, a sickening dread beginning to pool in your stomach at the blunt confession. "what?"

"haley's cheating on me." he fought against the brokenness that dared to ache in his voice, remaining solid and firm in his words. he released a breath, as if saying it out loud made it real; the final confirmation he needed himself. "i may just be paranoid, creating something out of nothing. but things have been... strange."

"oh." your shoulders slumped, the back of your head hitting your headrest.

"strange enough it's been noticeable."

"what's been going on?"

"weird phone calls." he bit his lip as he gazed off to the side, as if he were recalling an instance internally, his hold tightening once again. "she's been more distant. uninterested. sometimes, when she comes home, she won't look me in the eye."

ouch. "i'm sorry."

it was rather surprising, in an odd way. to the naked eye, aaron was someone who was well put together; phenomenal at his job, a clear key-in for potential director of the bureau someday. from an outsider perspective, one could infer he lived a perfect life, and therefore had the perfect family to go along with it.

if he wasn't confiding in you, that's what you would've thought.

aaron didn't talk about his personal life - that's one thing you quickly learned upon your addition to the team, a month or two ago. you could recall what penelope had for breakfast, what books spencer had read in a day, what color underwear morgan had currently on.

anything about aaron, nothing.

whether it was because he was your boss, or because he wasn't an openly expressive person, you always went back to the guilty thought - has anyone at least ever asked?

while you all went out for drinks after a long day, aaron never usually attended. but he had a family at home, of course he would go home to them - that's where his priorities laid.

the constant secrecy surrounding him was the reason you've been so intrigued by him since day one - spending so much time with someone you knew nothing about.

and if you learned anything now, he wasn't going home to the home you had previously thought. it was barely a home, he was more so a guest. you were slowly beginning to understand more why he rarely smiled.

aaron hotchner was just as human as anyone else.

even now, he wasn’t showing much emotion. it was evident he was extremely hurt, and had all the emotions one could imagine. but would he distinctly let that on, letting his vulnerability show - no.

aaron opened his mouth to respond, slight hesitation before he spoke. he began to deflect, "but i could just-"

"no. listen to your intuition." you interrupted softly, grounded. "like you said, if you're taking notice, something's going on."

he nodded in agreement, the motion of his head strained. he did force out a chuckle, a terribly sad laugh. "part of me doesn't blame her-"

"don't say that. she's your wife."

"exactly." aaron sighed out, eyeing the wedding ring on his left hand. "there's something i could've done to prevent this. to keep her interested. to solidify i'm still here for her despite the long hours and schedule. instead i'm the husband and father who's never home. and it's difficult to be the husband i want with the possible betrayal."

"she's your wife." you repeated, solemnly. "so she should know you. you're the husband and father who stops at nothing to catch the criminals who walk amongst us. you're this job, and asking for understanding on that isn't wrong. regardless of what you say you're doing wrong, or have done wrong, it doesn't give haley the excuse to... do this."

you didn't want to say cheat. not for his sake - the depth of the word felt harsh and prominent in your chest.

"i appreciate you saying that." his eyes met yours briefly, the tone of his voice genuine. "but i messed up. i guess what they say about getting needs met elsewhere is true."

you quieted.

aaron also added after a moment, in an exasperated near-whisper. "and besides... i don't think she's known me in a while."

silence filled the car once more, and you let out an exhale. you felt for him, and his marriage. you couldn't imagine what it felt like, or how he felt: the person who you thought was your forever slipping through your fingers - like trying to catch smoke. it was there, you just couldn't grasp it.

you hoped you weren't overstepping boundaries with your next question. "does she know..."

"that i know?" aaron asked, and you nodded. he kept his stare forward, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. "i believe so, yeah."

you waited for him to speak again, while he was confiding in you, you didn't want to pry - none of really this was your business. you at least hoped it was clear you were offering support within the silence.

and you must've, because he continued. "i feel sick to my stomach it could be happening in my house. in my bed. with our son in the next room over." he shook his head angrily with the last sentence, in disbelief as he clicked the windshield wipers on, the rain falling more heavily now. "i lie awake at night when we're gone, just thinking what's going on at the moment."

"i wouldn't do that." you offered quietly, although you knew that advice was nearly impossible to follow. "you will make yourself sick."

aaron vaguely shook his head again, defeated. "i don't know what else to do."

you weren't sure what to say, or exactly why he was telling you all this. again, you didn't know him well. and not only, in a way, he terrified you, in more ways than one. the only way you could describe it - when he looked at you, he really looked at you. you were terrified of what he could make you realize about yourself.

"so, what are you going to do?"

"i don't know."

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underdevelopedangst · 3 days

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⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎀༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

ik i said sarah isn’t my type but maybe in the context of like…. john b and sarah dating, appearing normal and regular to everyone around them but really they’re a pair of weird perverts, seeking out a sweet innocent girl for them to use like a little toy. they pick up a sweetheart working at the library, shy and lonely and decide she’s the one !! so they befriend her and start to bring her everywhere, getting her used to their copious amounts of affection that they play off as platonic… john b constantly putting an arm around your waist or stroking the back of your head which makes you nervously glance to sarah, not wanting to be disrespectful but she’s already gazing at you with that thinly veiled excitement and encouragement.

sarah is touchier than john b, knowing you’ll likely think nothing of it if it’s another girl. she doesn’t even know if you like girls like that, and you feel totally ashamed at the way your cunt clenches and gets all sticky when she jokingly grabs at your tits infront of everyone or smacks your ass, telling you to stop hiding that ‘pretty ass’ from her. you figure this is just how they are with their friends. open and affectionate— it’s only when the two invite you to a sleepover you suspect they might have been concocting something all along.

it gets onto the topic of sex, and you’re shameful to admit that you’ve never done anything like that before — coming from a very strict, perhaps religious family. sarah is still playing bestie-bestie with you, grabbing you to say “wait, hold on. you’re telling me you’ve never even made out with a guy? okay, you’re missing out. john b come here.” the two of them ushering you onto his lap. you feel nervous, like you’re being disrespectful once more and she simply reassures you, kissing your shoulder and telling you in your ear that it’s “—fine, babe. i’m right here so it’s not even weird.”

the night progresses, and doesn’t stop progressing until you’re totally nude, laying against sarah who encourages you as you take all of john b’s length, the man above you slowly grinding his cock inside you inch by inch as you wince, clenching hard around what he’s feeding you slowly. sarah is right there for you, starting off by simply holding your hand, sharing giggles with you. giggles that turn into kisses, that turn into her sucking on your tits and rubbing at your clit whilst her boyfriend fucks you.

john b is super sweet about it too as you can imagine. “hey, we’d never make you do anything you don’t wanna do. yeah?” brow all creased in genuine concern as he takes his turn to thumb at your clit. you’re split open around him, watery eyes glancing between the two to shake your head.

“feels really good.” you hiccup, and the couple share a chuckle together.

“thaaat, i figured. you’re like… incredibly wet. it’s amazing.”

so do we fw that or no .

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎀༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

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underdevelopedangst · 4 days

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Too Sweet (Part 1) - Sebastian Sallow X Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! My name is Ari! I used to write fanfiction back in the day, but took a break for a while. I've recently decided to restart my writing journey. This is the first of many pieces I have in my drafts - please let me know if you enjoy it, if you'd like to see more from me, and if you have any suggestions! I would really appreciate it.

This story is inspired by "Too Sweet" by Hozier, which I have been playing on repeat for days at this point.

Also, if you'd like to be friends, please reach out! I would love to get to know you!

Summary: Sebastian has a problem, and that problem is his best friend. She is simply too sweet for him, and can't get her out of his head. Will he do something about his feelings, or choose to continue to keep them a secret? (She/Her Pronouns, House Neutral)

Word Count: 2.6 K

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10 am was typically when Ominis could expect his dear friend and roommate to show his head on a Saturday morning. Though Sebastian always managed to get up for classes for time, the weekend struggle of being left to his own devices never seemed to evade him.

Ominis raised an eyebrow as he felt the brunette sit in his typical spot, with a bit rougher descent than usual. To the casual observer, Sebastian’s hair looked particularly unruly this morning - a sure fire sign he had an “interesting” night.

Without even bidding Ominis good morning, Sebastian poured himself a large cup of black coffee. He inhaled the scent as he brought the mug to his lips, hoping it may bring him back to life. The first sip was always the best to him - his now typical 3 am escapades had made him dependent on the bitter substance. And at this point, he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. Sebastian reveled in the night time, enjoying the time away from prying eyes, time where he could truly focus on his work.

Even without sight, Ominis could tell Sebastian had a rough night- The tell tale smell of smoke covered him, a sure fire sign that he had been up late practicing confrigo in the undercroft, or perhaps a more dangerous location.

Despite the events that had occurred during the end of his fifth year, eventually Anne had chosen to forgive him. After many long conversations, Anne had also given Sebastian the okay to continue with his research, but only if he swore to Merlin that he would no longer go anywhere near dark magic. So far, he had managed to keep his nose clean- but his desire to help his sister his sister was strong as ever, so he opted to spend as much time as he could looking for a cure. It being his seventh year with N.E.W.T.S quickly approaching, Sebastian had been struggling to find time during the day to work on anything other than his studies. Despite the common misconception, Sebastian was actually one of the best students in his year. Having grown up with professors for parents, a jest for learning was instilled within him from early life.

So far, Sebastian had managed to stick to his plan: study during the day, research at night. The one downfall to Sebastian’s focus was Y/N. Ever perfect, sickeningly sweet Y/N, who seemed to be unaware of how absolutely mad she drove him.

Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, Sebastian had been in love with her since she first knocked him on his ass during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Being one of the best duelist at Hogwarts, Sebastian was not used to being beat so easily- Especially by someone who had only know of the existence of magic for less than a year. Though they were good friends and spent exorbitant amounts of time together in the undercroft, Sebastian still could never get enough of her. Her presence was like a drug to him. He often found his eyes stuck to her during lessons, during meals, basically any time she was in the near vicinity of him. Right now, his eyes tracked her across the great hall, as she had an animated conversation with Garreth. He stared, trying to determine what topic had gotten her so excited, hoping that one day he may be able to bring it up “accidentally”. His focus was so great that he barely noticed Ominis’s hand waving in front of his face.

“Earth to Sebastian… Are you still in there?” The blonde looked at him, puzzled, until he followed Sebastian’s gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slightly disappointed sigh.

Sebastian startled a bit, and turned to look at his friend. “Yes, what exactly did you want to talk about Ominis?” Ominis muttered something to himself about Sebastian’s inability to listen to any one but himself, before responding.

“I had asked if you were still planning on going to the Three Broom Sticks tonight. Natty, Poppy, Imelda, and Amit are all insisting we go.” Sebastian looked down at the table, taking another sip of his coffee, trying to weigh his options.

“You might just have to go without me, I have a very interesting lead that I-”

“Y/N will be there.” Ominis cut him off with a slight smirk on his face, waiting for his friend’s reaction.

“On second thought… Perhaps you could count me in. I could also read more of my book from there.” Sebastian let out a sheepish smile as Ominis tisked, not surprised at Sebastian’s sudden change of heart at all.

Sebastian looked away, drawing another long sip from his coffee, before looking up. To his surprise, he found the object of his unadmitted obsession standing right before him.

Y/N had walked over, clearly excited about something, as she eagerly took a seat across from the boys at the Slytherin table. “Well if it isn’t my two favorite friends! How are you on this fine moment.” Sebastian let out a soft chuckle, studying her face with a gentle smile.

“Nothing much… What’s got you all excited today?” Y/N grinned, leaning in a bit more to whisper to the two.

“Well, I just found out its Imelda’s birthday today. And I was thinking it would be a wonderful idea to throw her a surprise party! We’re all going to the Three Broom Sticks anyway- might as well set up a few decorations while we’re at it.”

Ominis let out a slight huff, looking at Y/N with a puzzled look on his features. “Are you sure she won’t have your head for doing that- I mean, this is Imelda we’re talking about. I don’t really want to clean up whatever blood is spilled from the after math.” Y/N let out a chuckle, taking Ominis’s hand and squeezing gently.

“While I appreciate the concern, I’m sure it’ll be okay. I’m going to make it Quidditch themed!” She grinned in excitement, sending a small shiver down Sebastian’s spine. He longed to be the cause of that type of grin one day.

Ominis shook his head, giving her a small smile. “If you say so, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sebastian choose to chime in at that point, “Let me know if you need any help. I’m not exactly sure what I could do, but I’d be happy to assist in any way possible.” Y/N looked thoughtful as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the same pitcher Sebastian had used earlier - the only difference being that she choose to dump an exorbitant amount of sugar and milk into her mug too. She preferred her morning beverage sickly sweet, quite the opposite of Sebastian. Still Sebastian found it endearing, he loved watching her try to make the perfect concoction… Gosh, he was a goner.

Ominis, a bit disturbed by the silence at the table, choose to elbow Sebastian in the side at that moment. “Anyway, it was great to see you Y/N. Sebastian and I must be going. I need to pick up some supplies from Pippins.” Ominis stood, waiting for Sebastian to join him.

Sebastian stood as well, flashing her one last smile. “Send an owl if you need me.” He followed Ominis out of the great hall, much to his dismay.

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Spring had just begun to show its face as Sebastian and Ominis approached the path to Hogsmeade. The sun was out, which added a bit of warmth to an otherwise chilly day. The trees still hadn’t recovered their leaves from the fall prior, but the grass was beginning to show hints of green, a surefire sign that warmer days were soon to come. Lost in silent contemplation, Sebastian had his arms crossed behind his back as they meandered at a casual pace. Eventually, Ominis broke the silence with a question that Sebastian had been dreading asking himself.

“So, when are you planning on divulging your feelings to Y/N?” Ominis said expectingly. Truth be told, he had begun to grow a bit tired of his friend's endless pining. At first, it was heart warming to see 5th year Sebastian focused on someone other than Anne for once. But at this point, especially with graduation approaching, Ominis hoped his friend would build up the courage to do something about his feelings that seemed to be almost all consuming.

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair as he often did when worried - it was his nervous tick. Sebastian considered his options, but he was long past being able to lie to Ominis about his feelings at this point. Everyone with eyes, except for Y/N of course, seemed to be aware of the brunette’s strong feelings for a certain ancient magic yielder. “Honestly Ominis… Probably nothing. Truth be told, I think she’s too good for me. You see how selfless she is- she constantly puts everyone before herself, running errands for them. How could she possibly like someone like me? I mean,” he let out a small chuckle, “I can barely keep up with my work. And I almost drove her down the path of dark magic once… Who says she even really trusts me at this point? She’s too sweet for me. She be better off with someone like Garreth.”

Ominis let out a small sigh as he continued to walk, a bit displeased by his friend’s ignorance of the situation. After all, it was pretty obvious that Y/N returned his affections if one took the time really observe the situation. After all, Y/N had told Ominis just last week that she had actually turned down Garreth when he asked her on a date. Ominis considered telling Sebastian this tad bit of information, but decided to keep it to himself instead. Sebastian needed to figure this out on his own.

By this time, they had reached the bridge and were joining the busier streets of Hogsmeade. “Whatever you say Sebastian, but I think you’re wrong about her. Perhaps you should try a make an advance at the party tonight.”

Sebastian let out a chuckle at that, shaking his head. “You’re impossible… but perhaps I’ll try, should the opportunity present itself. Its also funny, I think this is the first time you’ve actually admitted you have feelings for her.” Sebastian punched him gently in the arm at that, letting out a small huff.

They made their way to Pippins, only stopping to throw a spare coin in Ernie’s hat as he put on yet another one of his magical street displays. Truth be told, Sebastian had a decent feeling about tonight. Though he was still hesitant to potentially affect their friendship, his feelings for Y/N had reached a breaking point.

______________________________________________________________

After their Hogsmeade excursion, Sebastian and Ominis had made their way back to the castle to prepare for the recently declared surprise party. Typically Sebastian wore whatever he could pull out of his closet first. This time though, he took his time trying to decide between his limited collection of jumpers. Growing frustrated, he flopped back on his bed in the dorm he and Ominis shared, startling his roommate a bit.

In typical Ominis fashion, Ominis was already ready to go and looking rather dashing at that. Sebastian often found it ironic that his blind friend could clean up better than he could - not that it was hard to do, Sebastian tended to rely on his decent looks to make a good impression.

“Are you almost ready to go Sebastian? We need to leave in 5 minutes if we don’t want to be late for the festivities.” Sebastian let out a groan, staring up at the dark green canopy that covered his plush bed.

“Almost, I just can’t decide what jumper to wear. I’m thinking maybe the green one?”

“How very Slytherin of you. I think that’ll be fine, Sebastian. If you’re worried about Y/N, I think she’ll like whatever you wear.” Sebastian relented and pulled on his favorite green jumper, running a brush through his hair a couple of times (for the first time in longer than he’d like to admit), and even added some the woodsy cologne Anne had gifted him for Christmas as a special touch. Looking in the mirror, he felt his outfit was suitable enough for a party. His brown boots, khaki trousers, and dark green jumper all suited him nicely. For good measure, he grabbed a book, just in case he should find himself in a situation where he needed it. It was rare nowadays to find him without one, anyway.

Once he was fully ready, Ominis ushered him out the door, eager to depart the Slytherin common room before Imelda had the opportunity to try and hound them for information as to why everyone was suddenly acting strange.

Thankfully, they made it out of the castle interrogation-free, and started making their way towards Hogsmeade for the second time that day.

______________________________________________________________

Not that he had ever doubted her, but what Y/N had managed to pull off in just a day was truly amazing. As Sebastian and Ominis walked into the Three Broom Sticks, they were greeted with a full range of decorations - green streamers crowded the ceiling, confetti containing mini brooms and snitches was splashed across the tables, which were also covered in deep green table clothes. Music was playing in the background, a testament to Y/N’s ability to plan. She truly thought of everything.

As the pair made their way over to the bar, Y/N ran to meet them, engulfing them in a massive group hug.

“You made it! I was getting concerned that you wouldn’t show up. I wouldn’t be a party without the whole gang here!” She gave them a toothy grin that made Sebastian’s stomach turn. He had to admit, though he typically regarded himself as a strong person, she had a way of making him turn into absolute putty in her hands. If she flashed that smile at him, he would simply do anything she requested, without hesitation.

Ominis broke Sebastian’s pining thoughts with a small chuckle. “Well, I’m sorry if we were almost late. But I’ll have you know that its because our dear friend here couldn’t decide on a jumper. For twenty whole minutes.” At that, Sebastian laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck with his hand as his eyes pointed towards the floor.

“What can I say, I dress to impress.”

After a few more pleasantries, Y/N had to return to host duties and disappeared from sight. This left Sebastian and Ominis to the bar, where Sebastian intended on staying. Typically, he would have a drink and hand and start making the rounds, perhaps sliding a few flirtatious remarks towards any fellow Hogwarts students that caught his fancy. In this instance, however, it felt almost traitorous. It had since he had developed feelings for her. Honestly, it had felt that way since the day he met her. The first day, when she handed him his ass in DADA and still had the audacity to be nice about it.

Giving Sirona a proper greeting, Sebastian soon enough had his beloved butterbeer in hand. The sickly sweet syrup of the drink always seemed to sooth him, reminding him that no matter how dark his thoughts may sometimes get, at least sweet things exist. One of those was Y/N. His thoughts simply couldn’t escape her at this point, replaying her like the melody from a song one has heard multiple times, but could never place. Somehow, he instantly knew her and didn’t - but he certainly longed to learn more.

Ominis let out a small huff, tapping Sebastian’s arm lightly. “Sebastian, you are still there, aren’t you? You’re rather quiet… Especially for you.” Sebastian sighed, and gripped Ominis’s arm, mulling over his next words.

“Yes I am… and I think it’s time that I finally do something about my feelings for Y/N.”

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underdevelopedangst · 4 days

Text

Sebastian Sallow's Hands

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Smut // Words: 2.7k // [READ ON AO3]

Notes: I woke up thinking about Sebastian's hands, so... I wrote this, whatever this is. Drabble? Headcanon? Plotless porn? I don't know. It's about hands, I think. Maybe? (It escalated a little...)

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content!

Sebastian Sallow is a handsy guy.

You've noticed it when he would grab your hand and pull you along or out of dangerous situations, or when he sits next to you and just talks, usually with his hands if they are not resting on your arm or back or thigh... and the more you get to know him, and the closer you get, the more he would touch you, bolder and more confident, but usually still appropriate enough for the public space you are in.

But as soon as the two of you would be alone somewhere, truly alone, his hands would be all over you. Tangled in your hair, stroking your back, exploring all of your curves, cupping your face to pull you towards him for a heated kiss. And whenever you'd end up lying on a couch or a bed together, he'd have his hands wrapped around your stomach or your hips or firmly holding your breasts.

Perhaps he is also a boob guy.

That is certainly his favourite body part of yours. His large hands would be holding your soft mounds like something fragile, fingers carefully encircling the shape, weighing them gently, applying just enough pressure that you'd know what he is doing, and sometimes he would just hold them when he'd be lying behind you, bodies pressed together, relaxing, his hands supporting your breasts like a bra made out of warm skin and muscles.

And you like it, of course you do, him just cupping them with his beautiful hands, calloused but also soft, with those veins and tendons protruding under thin freckled skin, those long fingers bending just the right way, reminding you of other places his hands has been...

He is a handsy guy, but you are a hand appreciater. A hand lover. Or lover of his hands. Match made in heaven.

You don't know if he knows how you sometimes stare at his hands, how you take in every detail of them, but he indulges you, moves them over your body, touches you everywhere, playfully slides his fingers over your skin, under your clothes, into your hair, traces the lines of your body with gentle movements.

And you either melt into the soft touches, or you come undone by them. It's one or the other. Or the same.

And as much as you love watching his hands, you appreciate them even more when you can feel them, really feel them. Gripping your hair with a strength that always surprises you, or closing around your throat hard enough to make you gasp. Or when he grabs you by the waist and manhandles you into any position he likes best at the moment, and you usually let him. How could you ever resist him and his hands?

And when they are back around your breasts, kneading them, teasing them, long fingers pressing into soft flesh before they focus on your sensitive nipples, rolling them between fingertips, pinching them, pulling them, all you can do is mewl under the sensations.

Yet as rough as he can sometimes be with his hands, he uses the rest of his body to soothe you afterwards. Mainly his mouth. And what a mouth he has, a dirty one, you know that, spilling things nobody should say out loud, but then there are also his lips, those kissable lips, eagerly moving against yours or down your jaw and onto your neck, pressing soft kisses into your skin until he gets his teeth and tongue involved too.

And oh that tongue...

(You realize the more you think about Sebastian, the less you can decide what part of him you like the most. Perhaps it's the entire package...)

He is so good with his tongue. Be it during a kiss or when he explores your body, licking and nibbling and sucking on your lips or earlobes or breasts or any patch of skin he can reach, sometimes leaving those marks on you that you can barely hide the next day that he always soothes with a lap of that eager tongue, warm and wet and enticing.

And while his big hands hold your waist (or you in place as you can't stop squirming), he moves his tongue around your nipples until they're hard and almost aching, then sucks on them like a man parched, always teasing and easing them with the tip of this very versatile, wet muscle.

Then he moves lower, laving your stomach, dipping into your belly button, kissing your hipbones, his palms always running along your sides, exploring ahead until they grip your thighs and pull them apart when he plants eager pecks on your mound.

The things he does between your legs should be classified as unspeakable. At least they render you completely speechless, or breathless, or brainless, as all you can do is whimper and moan and gasp and cry out in nothing but pleasure when he presses his mouth to your folds, lapping between your lower lips, licking up any wetness he creates with those expert motions.

He usually focuses on any inch of sensitive skin – except your clit. That he lets to its own devices until it's throbbing and you're so needy you buck your hips against his face. Then his hands are back, holding you firmly, fingers digging into your skin, sometimes bruising it with how hard he grips you, while he continues his journey along your weeping pussy, kissing and licking and sucking, pulling your folds between his teeth, teasing them. He even dips his tongue into your entrance, moving that muscle in ways you don't think possible.

And while you dissolve beneath him, body twitching but no longer protesting, he moves his hands around your rear and grabs your bum cheeks, kneading them with nimble fingers as he presses you closer to his face, diving deeper. And only then does he move towards your clit. It's usually one or two licks and you spasm against him, crying out louder, and a few more licks until you come against his face hard.

His hands will find yours then, fingers slipping between your own, holding you, squeezing you, supporting you through the spasm of your body.

He may lap up your wetness, but he also never stops until he pulls at least one more orgasm out of you as he enjoys seeing you come undone, let go, forget everything that has ever bothered you. And oh, how light-headed and carefree you are once he is done with you.

Or, once his mouth is done with you. Because then he starts using his fingers, and you never come down from that high when he rubs that sensitive bundle of nerves with one hand while the other moves over your folds, parting those lips, stroking along that wet sensitive skin until he pushes one fingertip into you, teasing you, feeling your walls clench around it.

And slowly he pushes it deeper, one knuckle at a time, pressing into your tightness, massaging and exploring your soft flesh, while his other hand lies flat on your lower stomach, feeling those contractions, and his thumb is placed firmly on your clit, rubbing it in circles.

You're probably a mewling mess by now, barely able to appreciate those beautiful hands and fingers anymore, but he keeps going, pulling his finger out and replaces it with two, easily slipping in, deeper, stretching your walls when he scissors them inside you, and when he bends them just right, and presses against that one spot, and he does, at the same time as he pushes hard on your clit, you erupt in pleasure at the motion, your noises unintelligible.

He fingerfucks you through your orgasm, pushing those long digits in and out, fast and hard, savouring these squelching noises that you'd be embarrassed about if you weren't floating near the ceiling right now. He gets even bolder and adds a third finger, stretching you further, preparing you for yet another adventure.

In and out they go, while his thumb still circles your clit, and he may even bend down and give your inner thighs some soft kisses or rough nibbles, probably both, marking you up even more. And you buck and convulse and twitch against him, lost in ecstasy, but when he pulls those fingers out and stops assaulting your clit, you watch him out of hooded eyes, only to melt even more into whatever surface you're lying on as you witness him putting his glistening fingers to his lips and licking them clean with that sensual hum that drives you crazy.

And then he is crawling on top of you, pressing his wet mouth to yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue as he shoves it between your lips, swallowing your mewls and moans, while his fingers dig into your hair, tugging it slightly, holding you in place as he kisses you even more senseless.

You barely notice when his hands move, one down between your bodies, one to close around your throat, gently choking you while he grabs his hard cock and lines it up with your eager entrance. And when he pushes the tip in, you gasp, and he presses against your throat, silencing that gasp, and his hips move against yours, gentle stabs to ease his length into your tight cunt, while he keeps kissing you deeply, muffling more of your noises.

Once he's sheathed completely inside you, filling you out perfectly, he eases his grip on your throat and massages your neck with those long fingers, his thumb pressed against your chin, guiding you into the kiss. He gives you a tiny bit of reprieve, letting you adjust to his intrusion, and even though you feel full and barely able to move or breathe, you mould against him, your legs falling open until they hook around the back of his thighs, pulling him even deeper.

He leans back slightly, watching you with a dark gaze, brown eyes barely recognizable with how dilated his pupils are, how hungry he is for you. His freckled face is hard, concentrated, jaw clenched with that muscle moving so deliciously beneath his skin.

His hand is still holding your throat, then you feel his other hand moving back up, gliding over your curves until a warm palm presses to your breast, cupping it gently before he starts kneading it, rubbing it against your nipple until it hardens. He is so enthralled by the feel of your soft flesh that he lets go of your throat and leans back, hips still pressed against yours, deeply connected, while he grabs your other breast as well, holding them firmly in his large hands, warm and safe.

He keeps groping them, alternating between rough squeezes and gentle presses, your hard buds scraping over his calloused skin, and watches your face closely as he does so. You're so relaxed now, you've almost forgotten his hard cock resting inside your tight cunt, but only until he suddenly starts moving.

Pulling out to slam back in, repeatedly, over and over again, and each time he thrusts deep, you yelp and rock over the surface you're on, up and down, but his hands on your breasts hold you in place. He uses them to guide you, gripping them with his arms outstretched as he slams his hips against you. Your legs fall open again, too boneless to hold onto him, and your entire body moves with his powerful thrusts.

You'd watch his muscles ripple under his skin, those tendons moving with every motion, but you thrash your head back and dissolve into a puddle of bliss as he keeps driving his length and girth into you, stretching your walls while they clench around him, his rapid rhythm rendering you unable to do anything but lie in front of him, issuing those noises that make him move even faster.

The tension in your stomach tightens, and while he pinches your nipples, he thrusts deep, always hitting the farthest spot, until you cry out and arch your back, stars dancing behind your eyelids, limbs twitching uncontrollably as you come hard on his cock.

He pulls you up then, arms wrapped around your body as he presses you to his chest, his mouth finding your shoulder for some breathy kisses before he bites down slightly, and you can barely move your own arms, but you try to snake them around him, holding onto him, fingernails digging into his back as he quickens his pace even more.

Your combined moans and groans echo through the room while you lean your cheek against his collarbone and he holds you with strong hands, one between your shoulder blades, one on your lower back, as he pounds into you hard and fast, until a grunt leaves his throat and he gives you one final thrust, hitting your cervix with precision, which makes you come undone all over again.

He stills inside you as you convulse, and you feel him twitching between your fluttering walls. His embrace tightens as he comes inside you, painting your womb with his hot seed. Rough breaths hit your ear as he slowly relaxes with you in his arms, and for a moment neither of you move, as the warmth you both created spreads through your body like a wildfire.

You feel exhausted and close your eyes, even though you want to watch how he gently pries your arms away from him and places you on your back again, his hands roaming your sweaty body, caressing your tender breasts until they move to your thighs, holding onto them as he steps back and slips out of you. You can feel the globs of warm cum dripping from your hole, and you couldn't care less where they go and what they soil, but then you feel his fingers on your sensitive skin and your eyes flutter open.

He watches you with a tired smirk as he circles your clit with one finger before he dips the same one into your pussy, shoving his seed back in. A small gasp escapes you as he keeps fingering you until he's satisfied his essence remains inside you. When he withdraws that finger, it is coated in your combined juices, glistening, dripping, and you see him raising it towards his mouth, but somehow you manage to lean up and close your shaking hands around his wrist and pull his hand towards your own mouth.

His eyes sparkle in admiration when he watches you lick his finger clean, a little growl escaping his throat. You hold his gaze as you give his other fingers the same treatment, your tongue lapping around those beautiful digits and between them and along the back of his hand, and when he bends his fingers, you feel those tendons and veins move against your tongue, and a deep shudder rushes through your body.

You cradle his big hand between your smaller ones, admiring every single detail of it, noticing the little freckles on it, the sharp edges of his wrist, the hair moving up his arm, the veins snaking around it and the muscles tensing beneath his skin. And he watches you closely, mesmerized by how much attention you pay to his hand.

And you're not done. You give every knuckle a gentle peck, licking over every crease, nibble on his fingertips, and when you reach his pinkie you turn his hand palm up, lapping at the lines on it, moving towards his pulse, before you focus back on his thick thumb.

His eyes widen slightly when you pull it between your lips and start sucking on it playfully, your eyes gleaming in mischief and delight. His own amusement quickly turns into arousal as you continue working on his thumb, pushing it as deep as it can go into your mouth, and he groans slightly when you graze your teeth over it while your tongue swirls around it eagerly.

And that's when he questions if his favourite part of you really are your breasts. He loves them, he even moves his free hand to knead at one as he watches you, but he can't deny that you have a very talented mouth as well.

So the cycle repeats itself, and at the end of the day, you both realize you are just crazy about each other, every body part included. Though you still always adore his hands a tiny bit more.

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

Sebastian Sallow headcanons

NSFW Sebastian Sallow headcanons

NSFW Hogwarts in the 1890s headcanons

Screenshots of Sebastian's Hands Masterlist

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underdevelopedangst · 6 days

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Mallowsweet Muses - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: This wasn’t anything new for you– on the contrary, you’d sucked Sebastian off enough times to know how he liked it, what made him crumble in your hands and sing praises of your name. But Mallowsweet hadn’t been a factor then, and you hesitated for a moment as you considered whether or not you were taking advantage of him like this. You looked up at him once more, the question hanging silently in the air, and with the enthusiasm of a puppy Sebastian nodded hungrily.

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian getting high and fooling around.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit content, recreational drug use

Full fic can be found here on Ao3! PART 2 with Ominis now included! PART 3 can also be found here.

Keep reading

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underdevelopedangst · 6 days

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Possessive Touch - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian acting incredibly possessive after watching you hug someone else and then staking his claim on you the only way he can.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, rough sex, yandere!Sebastian

Locked away in my drafts for months and unearthed by this ask I received. Everyone say thank you anon

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 (with better tags as usual)

There were a number of words you could use to describe Sebastian Sallow. He was smart, loyal, and daring, to name a few. As brave as any Gryffindor and as insightful as any Ravenclaw, he had many positive attributes that you found to be remarkable. But every coin had two sides, and as much as you admired his more positive attributes, he could also be equally callous, brash, and vindictive when circumstances called for it. His moods fluctuated frequently and gave you whiplash half the time, because more often than not– despite it being accidental– you had a tendency to be the root cause of his emotional turbulence.

You hadn’t meant for your conversation with Ominis to last for so long, much less for it to cut into your allotted study time with your boyfriend. The Gaunt scion had, in a moment of weakness, confided in you about the burdens of his personal life with a kind of desolate demeanor that tugged at your heartstrings and made you genuinely feel bad for him. You had lent him your ear for nearly an hour, and eventually your shoulder as he came to rest his head against it to embrace you in thanks. It was simply you comforting a friend; offering him a brief moment of reprieve from the dreary thoughts that had plagued him for Merlin knew how long before the two of you had gone your separate ways. Nothing more, nothing less.

It had apparently looked like something more to Sebastian, though. He had been watching from the end of the Dark Arts Tower corridor with narrowed eyes, jealousy burning in his veins as he took in the sight of his girlfriend holding his former best friend in a manner he deemed reserved for him and him alone. You didn’t know how much of the exchange he had actually witnessed, but all that mattered was that he had seen the two of you hugging. Wracked with a silent yet palpable fury, Sebastian had dragged you down the steps of the Undercroft before tossing you into the room without a second thought, your protests and justifications falling on deaf ears.

A new word came to mind to describe Sebastian shortly thereafter. One that scared you as much as it excited you.

Possessive.

His fingers had branded you as he’d stripped you bare, pressing and pulling incessantly against your clothes until you were clad in nothing but your undergarments and left shivering under the intensity of his stare. He had stretched you out along the cool stone floor, his hands holding you down without a measure of care while he touched whatever parts of you he could reach. Your breasts were tender and sore by now– no doubt covered with tiny fingertip sized bruises from the sheer strength of his groping. His breathing was heavy and tinged with the occasional grunt when he shifted his hips over yours, the telling bulge in his trousers more than likely causing him discomfort, but he paid it no mind as he took his time focusing on you. An unmistakable wetness had gathered between your legs despite the depravity, and as much as you wanted to clench your knees together to ease the rampant ache there, Sebastian’s own leg between yours prevented you from doing so.

He was toying with you, that much was certain, and he was enjoying every blasted second of it.

In response to your absentminded squirming, Sebastian moved so his knee was nestled directly against your core, the sudden pressure causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. He took advantage of your closer proximity and looped his arm under your back, holding you flush to him with a desperate sort of yearning that made you dizzy, and the way he inhaled your scent before groaning was almost primal.

A choked moan slipped from your lips as Sebastian ducked his head into the crook of your neck to bite and suck fervently, the pain laced pleasure blinding you to his true motives, but not for long. There was no doubt in your hazy mind that he was behaving so brutishly in some attempt to remind you of who you belonged to. Leaving visible marks would only further his intentions, and you found yourself whimpering as you trembled against the floor.

After he bestowed a particularly playful nip against your marked flesh, Sebastian sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, taking in the sight of you dazed beneath him. You made quite the pretty picture; skin flushed, hair mussed, and an eclectic assortment of finger shaped lesions decorating your neck, breasts, and thighs. The knowledge that they had been put there by him only appealed to him more, and Sebastian hummed appreciatively at the sight.

You, on the other hand, were coiled tighter than a spring. The Slytherin man had been edging you like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it realistically could only have been half an hour or so. Time was something of an illusion at present, and all you could truly focus on was your ardent need for release. The fiery sensation that stayed stubbornly aflame in your lower stomach was beginning to drive you mad, and you gazed longingly up at Sebastian, who in turn bit his lip at your watery stare.

“Please, Sebastian,” you implored him, voice catching. His hands trailed down your chest and over your pert nipples before eventually settling on either side of your waist. Then with a grip tighter than Devil’s Snare, he tugged you harder against his knee with a wicked smile, forcing a low groan from your throat in response to the friction that he seemed to revel in. “Please.”

“I don’t know what you’re begging for,” he admonished in a low voice. “You’re going to have to be more specific, darling.”

Fuck, he was still upset. That much was obvious to you. It was evident in his tone, in the way his fingers dug sharply into the skin of your lower back– but mostly it was his eyes. The usual spark that danced behind his irises when he was with you was dull, and his gaze was anything but soft. It was hard and unyielding, cold and unfeeling. You were going to have to talk your way out of this one.

Licking your chapped lips, you did your best to still your writhing as you grit through your teeth, “I need you. I can’t take any more of this, please Sebastian.”

Both of his hands left your waist then. One of them braced flat against the floor to support himself while the other curled under your neck, pulling your head off of the ground to press your forehead against his own. The unrelenting pressure against your cunt didn’t lessen as he hunched over you and forced you to stare directly into those dark, greedy eyes of his, and you whimpered pitifully beneath him as he took in the delicious expression you bore. “Is it really me you need, or would any man do, hm? Should I fetch Ominis? Let the two of you continue where you left off earlier? Or maybe you’d prefer Garreth instead– your standards seem to be all over the place, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“N-No–” you stammered around the word when his fist clenched painfully in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Just you– only you– I swear, we were only talking earlier–”

“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing…” he muttered darkly, releasing your head and letting it thunk back against the floor softly. His hand was akin to molten fire as it trailed along your clavicle before he moved his thumb to lightly brush across your bottom lip. You barely had time to take note of the movement before he dove forward to capture your lips in a heady, domineering kiss that stole your breath from you completely, and all you could do was mewl softly when you felt his tongue sweep along the inside of your mouth. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, cupping the side of your jaw with his hand as he shifted his knee away from your core to give him the space he needed to drop his hips and grind his solid manhood against your thigh. He broke away for a split second to breathe out, “Say it again.”

It was hard to get a word out with how ferociously Sebastian was kissing you, but eventually his mouth trailed wetly to the side of your face to suck another mark into the skin below your ear, and you managed to gasp out, “Just you, Sebastian. There’s only you, I love you.”

The sound of his nails scraping against the stone floor beside your head drew your attention, but before you could roll your head to look, he was sitting up once more with a new sort of emotion glinting in his eyes. Those brown orbs of his were no longer flat or cold and instead appeared to be scalding with blatant lasciviousness, his want for you as potent as Firewhiskey.

Through hooded eyes you watched as Sebastian reached for his belt, the sound of metal and leather coming undone filling you with a kind of urgency that left you biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Finally he would give you what you wanted– what you’d been craving from the moment he stripped you bare and pinned you to the floor. The version of your boyfriend above you hurriedly shoving his pants down his hips was unfamiliar to you; he seemed wholly animalistic, driven forth by some inherent, primitive need to claim you all for himself, and as much as you loathed his inability to rein in his jealousy at times, an equally intrinsic part of you craved his possessiveness.

You were his, and he was yours.

Freed from the confines of his trousers, Sebastian knocked your legs to the side so he had more room to situate himself between them. He slid his knees under your bent legs, caging the limbs under his arms as he ran his calloused palms down the tops of your thighs and the head of his cock slid through the overwhelming wetness that had gathered at your center. The rampant ache in your stomach roared back to life tenfold at the mere feeling of his thick shaft, and you twitched in anticipation while Sebastian fixed his lustful gaze on you.

“That’s right,” he started to slide into your wet heat as he spoke, your mouth falling open around an airy groan at the sensation of being filled. “You’re mine. Everything you have to offer is for me and me alone, don’t you ever forget it.”

Sebastian was stretching you out torturously slow, stuffing every inch of himself into you with a measure of control that went against his earlier behavior. He was utterly transfixed as he watched your chest rise and fall with panted breaths, and when he finally bottomed out with his hips flush to the backs of your thighs, a wanton groan ripped from your throat as your head fell to the side. Your hand shot up to push back against his lower stomach– silently trying to convey that you needed a moment to adjust– but Sebastian merely pulled his hips back and plunged back in, drawing a keen whimper from you that lit a fire in his blood.

Overwhelmed tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the sheer size of him breaching you, and you threw your arm over your face to hide the sudden flush you felt heating your cheeks. “S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah–”

His hands slid down your thighs to grip at your waist once again, pulling you impossibly closer to grind against your ass before he began pumping into you steadily. It stole your breath– all of it; the angle, his bruising hold on you, his pulsing cock brushing against the deepest parts of you. It was exquisite agony, and a quivering moan tore from your lips when he leaned forward to spear downward into you, the head of his shaft hitting something that made you jolt against him.

Your arm fell away from your face in that instant, your fingers scrambling for purchase against the stone floor beneath you, to no avail. “F-Fuck, you’re too much– Sebastian!”

With your neck tipped back and your eyes squeezed shut, you felt Sebastian lean forward to brace his elbows on either side of your head before grasping your cheeks in his large hands. He lifted your skull from the ground and held your forehead to his again, prompting you to look at him as he slowed his pace. He continued to drive his hips into yours, but the mind numbing intensity had mercifully lessened.

“You’ll never do this with anyone else,” he said brusquely, his breath fanning across your lips. You could only moan in response, especially when he started to grind against you after each plunge of his cock. “This is all for me– every bit of you was made for me– do you understand?”

The grating moans that had been sounding from you transformed into gentler ones, Sebastian’s wave-like movements with his hips delivering tantalizing friction against your clit that had you melting beneath him. You nodded dumbly, and your boyfriend released your face to sit up so he could better watch as you fell apart under him. With one hand on your waist and the other propping him up, Sebastian held fast to you while he upped his tempo, pistoning his hips into you so fast and rough that the wet sounds coming from where you were connected were all you could hear.

More choked whimpers cascaded from your lips, sounding like an angelic symphony as far as Sebastian was concerned, and he threw his head back as he got lost in the sensation of your velvety walls clamping down on his cock. You could tell he was close based on how ragged his breathing became, and your own looming climax frayed the remaining tethers of your self-restraint. You surrendered completely to him, relishing in the overwhelming fullness of him as well as the scrape of the stone floor against your shoulder blades. Pain faded into pleasure, the cold air of the Undercroft transformed into a blazing inferno, and you swore you had never been so thoroughly fucked in your life.

When Sebastian’s gaze fell back on you, his eyes darkened and he practically snarled as he bent you clean in half. He nudged your knees over his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you, burying his fingers in your hair and clenching the strands in his fists, and as he rammed his cock into you harder– more feral and beastly than ever– the air in your lungs was expelled with every intoxicating thrust.

All you could see, smell, hear, and feel was him. He had effectively rendered you brainless as he claimed your mind, body, and soul, and the only thing you could do was submit to him and take it.

Your clammy hands blazed a trail along his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his back so hard that it had to sting– but if Sebastian’s throaty groan was anything to go by, he fucking loved it.

“Gods, it’s so deep, isn’t it?” he asked you, the words coming out in-between panted breaths. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought before you clenched around him even more, the unmistakable feeling of his cock hitting your cervix making you see stars. “I’ll come inside– fill you up so good that you’ll walk out of here with it dripping down your legs. See what everyone else has to say about that.”

You couldn’t even formulate a response. The most you managed was a witless, muffled cry of his name against his shoulder, the weight of him pressing down on you smothering any of the unintelligible noises that escaped you. His rapid, uncompromising pace drove you higher than you had ever thought possible, and your climax steadily built from a whisper to a deafening clamor.

“Ah– Sebastian, please–” you babbled, spittle hanging from your lips as you begged. “Please, please, please–”

The hands he had fisted in your hair tightened even more, prompting you to crane your neck back to ease the prickling feeling. “Please what? Come on darling, tell me what you want.”

The bestial way Sebastian fucked into you intensified in that moment, his toes digging into the stone floor to lend him the support he needed to chase his own pleasure while simultaneously amplifying yours. It was too much– it felt too good– and you had to fight tooth and nail to get the words out before his efforts left you a useless, twitching pile of limbs beneath him. “Please, let me come!”

“Swear that you’re mine,” he growled in your ear, the rough timbre to his voice making you tremble in earnest. “Tell me that no one else will ever have you like this– swear it.”

“I s-swear– I swear it– I’m yours, Sebastian. Only yours, I swear, please please please– I swear–”

Sebastian said nothing else, instead rewarding your admission with a toe-curling roll of his hips as he plunged in all the way to the hilt. He kept moving like that, the chill-inducing friction against your clit combined with his sinfully precise, cervix-kissing thrusts more than enough to drag your finish from you. Your walls fluttered around him as you lost control of your voice, your entire body quaking and jolting as an assortment of moans, cries, and and airy gasps poured from your throat.

“Fuck–” Sebastian swore roughly, both of his hands abandoning their hold on your hair to brace against the floor to better support his body as you seemingly sucked him in deeper. “Good girl, fuck– I’m close. You're going to take it all, yeah?”

There wasn’t a chance in hell you could respond– not that Sebastian was waiting for you to. With a husky groan, he pushed himself as deep into you as he could go, getting a few last thrusts in before he bottomed out and unraveled. Hot, potent strings of his seed painted your insides, causing your eyes to roll back in your head before he began rutting and grinding his hips into you to milk as much of himself as he could. You could barely hear him mumbling for you to take it all– not that it was even up for debate– and when he finally relented and stilled his movements, you were too dazed to so much as glance at him.

A warm, featherlight feeling brought you back to the present after a couple of heated moments. Sebastian’s hands brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead, his eyes unapologetically roving over you as he took in the sight of your fucked-out expression. He seemed pleased with himself, a barely there smirk revealing itself as he dropped his hand to your waist to dig his fingers into the bruised skin there. You inhaled sharply, but beyond that, you didn’t so much as wince. You were far too weary for that.

“In the future,” he started to say as he rocked forward, pressing his still-hard length into you briefly before withdrawing halfway, only to repeat the motion again. “I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself when you’re with your ‘friends’. Especially where Ominis is concerned…” he trailed off, his hands skimming along all the love-bites and bruises that littered your body. “That is, unless you want more reminders as to who it is exactly you’re dating.”

One look into Sebastian’s dark, piercing eyes told you that he wasn’t bluffing at all. You already knew that he was more than willing to stake his claim on you should the need arise, and part of you even wondered if he would have the decency to do so in private next time.

Next time? Would there even be a next time? He had certainly made his point.

The pleasant ache that lingered throughout your body had you second guessing yourself, however, and you honestly wondered if it would be worth it to rile Sebastian up again in the future. As terrifying as the thought was, you couldn’t help but entertain it as you smiled up at him innocently, a flurry of unholy visions racing through your mind as you relished in the possessive way he continued to touch you.

When he began to move his hips again, you decided to label the notion as a ‘maybe’ for now. Clearly he was far from finished with you, and despite the mildly terrifying side of him you had just been made privy to, you couldn’t help but shudder in anticipation.

Maybe rousing the sleeping dragon again wouldn’t be such a terrible thing… right?

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underdevelopedangst · 11 days

Text

smother - part x: hysteria

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: you can only pray that joel makes it back in time to save you. 11.6k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! dubcon - stockholm syndrome, general coercion, innocent reader, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 49), ddlg/daddy dom! joel, sub!reader, reader wears a collar, fingering, unprotected piv, exhibitionism, creampie, pet names for reader, dirty talk, knife play (not from joel oop), canon typical violence, reader gets injured, reader has hair, if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: fuck bryant ross all my bitches hate bryant ross 😤 don't @ me when you get to the end, okay please do but also uhhhh *runs and hides*

Bryant Ross never considered himself a bad person. He just lived in a bad world. Twenty years old at the start of the Outbreak with a promising future in college football and on his way to becoming a star quarterback. Football was a place to put all of that rage and violence inside of himself, as safely tucked away as he could get it between matches. He’d intended on keeping it that way until one night, his entire world went to shit just like everyone else’s. His parents, his two brothers, all gone in the blink of an eye, all because of some fucking virus that he didn’t have the displeasure of meeting himself, letting him go off the face of this Earth along with them.

He fell in with the wrong groups immediately - desperately stricken with grief, needing a place for all that outrage at the way his entire life had been ripped out from under him, he joined a group of looters in Columbus within a few days after the Outbreak. They pillaged, tore everything apart that they could find, including infected and people. It was a group of similarly like minded people that put Bryant’s fears at ease. He was okay, he would be okay. Group after group, Bryant skated along amongst them over the years, once trying life in the Cincinnati QZ in those early days, and not finding it to his liking. Too confined. He preferred the life out there where he didn’t have to face the thick clouds of judgements that others seemed intent on giving him even though the world had now turned to a stinking cesspool of horror, crime, and malicious intent.

Bozeman had been his home for years with the group of raiders he’d joined that lived there, the entire town theirs after a long, drawn out battle with the previous residents. They’d tentatively taken him in before deciding he was worth it, that his history proved he’d be enough of an asset to them. From there, he got to enjoy the fruits of their labor, the years they’d spent cultivating this place into their sanctuary.

Until it wasn’t his anymore. One accidental slip of the knife - maybe on purpose - and his years of service, everything he’d given to them, gone in what felt like a second.

She was our favorite fucking toy, Bryant! Jasper had spit in his face, veins popping and cheeks colored red. We get to do enough of that shit, killing people, you fucking asshole. You took it too far. They all say the words as if they’re clean, as if they haven’t committed some of the most horrific acts right by his side.

Bryant had watched the life drain from her eyes, and he wasn’t sure he felt sorry for it. Cuts marred her, eyes leaking fresh tears that only made him more excited by the prospect of holding the knife to her throat. She had been his favorite toy too, and he’d been warned, too many times, they said, about the concerning amounts of injuries on her body for them to be able to forgive this.

He was on his own, expelled with whatever he was able to fit in his pack, wandering the harsh wilderness and trying to clear his mind. Find his next place to call home. Maybe he was better off, he’d started to wonder, just being on his own without those assholes he’d called friends over the years.

Hope lost as days turned to nights over and over, crossing the border into Wyoming and through Yellowstone. Then a tiny cabin came into his view, salvation on the mountain, maybe a mirage in his tricked out mind that was running on little sleep these days. It wasn’t exactly what he had thought he was looking for at first, not until he’d seen movement through the windows. Just a flash of fabric, a dress swishing as you moved within eyeshot, a bit of hair, a quick peek at your face.

Hope gained when he saw you.

The sound echoes. Loud, piecing, shrill. A noise you weren’t even sure you were capable of before trying in this desperate moment. The dense forest eats it up, the sound traveling farther away in an instant, absorbed by the brush and the leaves and your lungs burn with the effort but you don’t stop the high pitched call you’re screeching out. Not until you’re forced to.

You feel the crush, the wind knocked out of you completely, sending you choking on the rest of the air trying to push its way out in a scream. You cough, doubling up into yourself but your knees hit the mystery man’s boot that’s just made its way down onto your chest hard.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut up!” he screams, clearly panicked by just how loud you’d been able to be, and you’d even surprised yourself. You whimper softly, tears stinging at your eyes as the pain pulsates across your chest.

“G-get away, he- he’ll be coming!” you say, gasping for air, unsure of why you’re trying to keep up the lie. Maybe it’s for your own good, your own sanity to believe Joel will come lumbering out of the cabin in a rage, whipping his revolver off of his waist and scaring your new nemesis right off.

The man leans down, crushing his boot further to your chest as you rests his elbow on that knee, sneering with those yellow teeth you hate, the sight of them making your stomach start to revolt against you.

“Ain’t shit coming out of that cabin and we both know it,” he replies coolly, his voice so low and terrifying, a horrible sound against the beauty of all the birdsong in the distance. You choose not to respond, giving him the answer he was looking for, making his nasty, coy smile grow even wider as his eyes drop to your chest, where his boot lays just above your breasts as they heave up and down. Your outfit leaves little to the imagination, most of the reason this is one of Joel’s favorites on you, and you know this man is getting a show right now, the outline of your taut nipples poking through more than obvious. It sends a shiver through you while his eyes darken, straight panic that chills you right to the bone.

“Let’s start over, yeah?” he says without making any effort to move his boot or release any of the pressure on your poor, strained lungs. You’re staying as still as you can, wanting to give him a sense of false confidence while you think about your next moves. “I’m Bryant,” he says, putting a palm to his chest. “And all I want is a little company, a place to sleep, not to hurt you.”

You don’t believe a word he says. Other than the fact that he has already hurt you, the air around him, his aura, feels so dark, so sinister, that you couldn’t make sense of his words even if you tried. This Bryant is not above hurting you further, and you won’t fall for his placating bullshit. You breathe in more and more shallow breaths as you stare up at him, needing air, and your fight mode kicks into gear suddenly, like your mind goes completely blank other than screaming static and the urge to move. You start to squirm, shoving his boot off of you with a sudden force to his shin, causing him to stumble to the side to regain his footing. Just enough room for you to roll out from underneath it as he has to stagger a step away from you.

“Fu-” Bryant spits out in surprise, his brows furrowing deeper as he watches you roll away and try to scramble to your feet. “You little shit,” he curses you, rushing at you, and your eyes go wider in pure panic as you struggle to get onto your two feet, your hands chasing along in the grass, trying to push you up. Bryant’s got his wits about him, though, maybe he had expected a fight here, and he’s on you too fast, the precious moment of escape not enough before the large, knobby fingers of one hand wrap around your wrist, the other precise in its snatching up of your collar. Your hands fly to the front of the leather, trying to stop the imminent choking as he tugs back, pulling you into him. His body is solid against you, strong like Joel is, but so much more unwelcome. The pungent, vile smell of him overwhelms you and makes your stomach do another turn and you feel yourself gag, throat straining against the tautness of your collar. Your most special thing, your prized possession. Joel’s gift to you that he’s trusted you with and this stranger is using it against you - it hurts your heart more than you can even comprehend in the moment that it’s aiding in your downfall.

Bryant swings your entire body around as you gasp and try to yell out in a raspy call, kicking your feet in his direction. He tightens the hold on your neck and you feel your lungs start to burn more with each strenuous inhale, not able to get enough air in each time. “Play fucking nice, won’t you?” he strains out with the effort of keeping you controlled as you flail and struggle against him. He whips you around suddenly, sending you a little dizzy before he starts dragging you behind him towards the cabin, only increasing the pressure on your throat.

“Let’s see if your ol’ daddy is home afterall…” Bryant says with a laugh, a cold, cruel sound that makes it feel like ice is running through your veins, strangely countered by the way you can feel your skin quickly coating with sweat, your forehead and armpits already sticky and damp as you continue to fight him. He stops suddenly, tossing you to the ground, grass staining the pure white gown, and he swiftly lands a kick to your gut and you sputter, coughing from the impact and the way your lungs beg for air now that your throat is free, the skin burning hot and prickly where the collar settles back onto you.

What would Joel do? A useless thought, you quickly scold yourself, considering you have none of Joel’s same qualities that make him so ruthless and formidable, and you’re completely outmatched in strength here. But what would he want you to do? The thought turns in your mind for a moment as time seems to slow down after the blow from his boot, and you roll pathetically on the ground, curling up into yourself. You don’t realize you’ve started crying until you taste the salt of your tears leaking onto your lips and into your open mouth as you suck in breaths, trying to steady yourself.

What would he want you to do?

Your hands go up to your collar before you can think about it, shaky fingers clumsily twisting it around to get to the buckle closure that’s usually at the back. You wouldn’t dare take it off normally, break such a fundamental rule and hurt Joel like that, not unless the situation was desperate like right now. You won’t let this piece of shit use your devotion to Joel as a tool to hurt you, to control you any further. You manage to get the buckle undone, tossing it off and into the grass just as the man reaches for you again, hauling you up underneath the shoulders roughly, uncaring towards the way you wince and sob as he handles you, forcing you towards the front door.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bryant repeats as his hand clamps over your mouth, clearly tired of hearing your cries. “Before I have to make you,” he adds in warning, and you feel the tip of a blade, held in his other hand, against your throat and your heart speeds up dramatically, to the point your chest feels like it's going to burst from the anxiety. Your cries die down immediately behind his dirty palm stuck to your face, only tiny whimpers coming out now as your tears continue to fall heavily. You nod slightly, letting him know you’ll cooperate, to not hurt you, please god to not hurt you.

He sneers, an unpleasant chuckle coming out as he holds you in front of him, forcing you forward towards the cabin. Your sanctuary. Your home. The thought of it being defiled like this, of memories full of newly budding joy being replaced with fear, makes you cry harder as the man pushes you into the door, crushing you against it.

“Open it. No fucking funny business,” he demands, his breath hot against your neck, body too close and claustrophobic. You nod with a tiny cry, reaching out your hand to the knob and turning, only to be pushed inside, falling to the floor again with a loud thud. You land mostly on your hands and knees, and immediately try to crawl away but he kicks you yet again, getting you right in the side, sending you down to the floor completely.

“Please…” you beg the man, trying to lay completely still on the floor, eyes squeezed shut, hands fisted into tight balls, grounding yourself through the pain of your fingernails digging into your palms. “What d-do you want…” you say through your tears, your voice wracked with sobs in between the words. “Just… please stop hurting me.”

Bryant seems to pay no mind to your appeal, standing in the doorway, blocking your exit as he shuts the door behind him. If he’d been less focused on you, his wild green eyes boring into you, he might have noticed all the signs of Joel’s existence - men’s jackets hanging by the door, his currently unused boots and shoes next to the entryway, your now more colorful and decorated list of Daddy’s Rules hung on the refrigerator. Joel was all over this place, his presence deeply set into the foundation of this home you shared with him, and you almost felt sorry that he didn’t notice, didn’t realize just who he was messing with by association.

He crouches down to your level, tilting his head as he examines your screwed up face. “If you stop fighting, I stop hurting you,” he says matter-of-factly, and you get the sense it’s a complete lie. Your eyes flutter, squeezing tighter and tighter shut as you feel the cool blade of his knife drag along your cheek, your body responding by picking up a violent shaking.

“I-I- will - j-just please -” you plead with him, unsure of what to even ask for at this point, your brain fuzzy as you let your body go a little limp, a show of faith that you won’t fight, that you won’t subject yourself to the hurt anymore.

“Now that wasn’t hard, was it?” Bryant asks mockingly, once again pulling you up underneath your arms, tugging you to sit up. Your body aches, screaming at you all over your chest, stomach, and sides. “Get the fuck up, and sit in that chair, r-right there,” he adds, sounding the slightest bit nervous for the first time. It’s almost like now that he’s gotten you where he wants you, he doesn’t know what to do with you. Or maybe he’ll lose his nerve, you silently pray.

You try to stand up, staggering as you do, your legs like jelly underneath you while the pain radiates throughout your midsection. You make your way to the kitchen table and the chair he’s pulled out for you as he holds the knife out in a direct warning to meet his demands. Your head lolls down, eyes feeling puffy and tired already from crying, and you watch him pull off and unzip his backpack, pulling out a large, long bunch of rope. Your face falls even further, a fresh stream of tears snaking their way down your cheeks. You should run, you should go somewhere, anywhere else, but you freeze, unable to even think straight enough to know which direction you should go. It’s pointless, anyways, with the state you’re in right now - he’d probably catch up to you in just a few paces.

Bryant grins sinisterly over at you as he paces towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder as he circles the chair. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he says, so casually that it catches you off guard, and you only blink at the ground and furrow your brows. “Lucky for me, I was needing a place to stay when I stumbled upon your humble little abode. It’s been too too long since I’ve had a warm bed…” he says in a low voice, standing behind you and draping a strand of the rope over your chest before pulling it tight across you. Your breath hitches as he goes tighter when he starts to wrap the thick, bristly rope around you, walking around the chair as he does in slow, deliberate patterns. He stops when you’re tied down about halfway, tucking one finger under your chin to lift your face to his. You quickly twist it to the side, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but he gives you a blunt slap across your cheek, stinging hot as the noise rings through the cabin, before he grabs your face and turns it for you. You can feel your whole entire body shaking against the restraint, your eyes devastated but hardened as he stares into them.

“...Or a woman to share it with.” You go violent, shaking against the restraints, the chair wobbling only slightly despite you giving it your all.

“Never,” you spit out defiantly, swinging your leg in his direction to attempt a kick at him, but he dodges it smoothly as if he’d anticipated it, leaving you feeling defeated.

Bryant only laughs, continuing his way around the chair with the rope before he finishes, securing it. Your hands try to wriggle but there’s no movement there, your feet quickly seized next as he ties your ankles together, forcing your legs apart slightly before he does it, leaving enough room, he mutters. You feel your nerve endings light up at the mention, the implications of what he’s thinking of doing to you.

“You should know, I’m not normally like this,” he says in a cold voice, one that gives you the complete opposite impression, pulling up one of the other kitchen chairs to sit across from you, so close that he’s making his knees touch yours. It makes you feel sick, utterly defeated to feel the way he’s pressing in, that ugly, satisfied smirk on his face. “I’ve seen other men take what they want, use the Outbreak as an excuse to commit some of the most sinful crimes you could imagine… Bet you’ve never seen anything like what I’ve seen, you look too innocent for all that…” he interrupts himself with a breathy chuckle, pausing for a moment to see if you’ll respond. You keep your eyes averted, rapidly blinking away tears as you shake uncontrollably, unsure of where he’s going with this.

“They said I was bad, but let me tell you, I could be so much worse. Something about you brought this out of me when I saw you,” he says, tilting his head, looking at you curiously. “You know, I watched you last night, just to make sure you were home alone. Not some crazy group of raiders shacked up in here or something. Got quite the show, by the way,” he says, letting out a whoosh of air, imitating how impressed he was. “Never saw a soul move around in here but you, sweetheart, and yet you say… you live here with your dad?” He laughs softly, and then pouts in your direction like he feels sorry for you, like he’s calling you crazy or completely delusional. You breathe heavier, nostrils flaring at the mention of Joel.

“I-I do!” you counter him, thrashing a little in the chair, not even caring to correct that he thinks Joel is your dad. The thought of him being outside, looking in last night makes you nearly gag, wondering just what he saw, what ideas he’d gotten about you. “A-and you’ll regret this.” You finally move your eyes up to glare at him, trying to make him see it, understand what will wait for him if Joel comes back. When Joel comes back, you remind yourself.

“Not so sure I will…” he replies indifferently, ignoring your plea to him, “From what I see I’ve got the perfect situation here, don’t I? Food, a bed, you here all by yourself… what a lucky find, eh?” The man starts using the knife to brush up and down your thigh, sending an involuntary wave of goosebumps across your skin that you hate yourself for. He doesn’t deserve a response, anything from you. Your brows push together, teeth starting to chatter as you push your angry energy out into the room, grimacing at him.

“F-fuck you,” you spit at him with scorn, not caring that you’re breaking one of Joel’s rules about swearing around other people, and you start to think that maybe he wouldn’t care right now, either. It’s a tiny balm in the moment, to picture him proud of you for talking back, for fighting so hard for yourself.

Bryant laughs again, the mirthless sound piercing you right to the core, and you feel it all falling away - your will to fight, your life force, all sapped as your body aches underneath the crushing force of these ropes. He lets the knife press in a little deeper, an indent forming on your thigh before he pierces the skin and you see a droplet of blood forming around it. You whine loudly but it only spurs him on, beaming at you with an evil sneer, brushing the sandy brown locks of his hair back quickly as his breathing picks up. He likes this, he likes hurting you, likes the blood he draws from your untouched skin, being the reason you bleed.

“You want me to go deeper? I can go deeper, pretty thing…” he says callously, his eyes flashing and wild, something sinister behind them that’s coming to the forefront.

You breathe in a ragged inhale and shake your head quickly, your gaze steady and transfixed on the spot, watching the bright red bloom on your skin as tears fill your eyes again. “N-no, please… please stop…”

He withdraws the knife and keeps his eyes on it, watching the tiny droplet of blood drip off the knife and onto the floor between the two of you. He stands, closing the gap and widening his stance, moving to straddle you. He looms, looking larger than ever as you start to shrink under his imposing form, the reality of this losing battle. The man is practically frothing at the mouth as he sinks down lower, bringing the knife to your throat eagerly, pressing softly but not enough to hurt yet or draw blood. You feel the bulge against his worn denim hit your thigh, and you finally snap in half, your body continuing to respond with shaking cries and whimpers, begging him to stop, but your mind feels… somewhere else.

Joel… you think desperately, wishing with every ounce of energy you have left that he was here with you, that this was all just a bad dream, a horrible nightmare you could jolt out of at any second. Oh, ‘s’okay, princess, c’mere… Joel would say so soft and caring before gathering you up in his arms, his bulky, warm biceps pulling you close. His scent would be so sweet, would smell like sunshine and the outdoors, or maybe a little tang of sweat like he has after a long day in the garden. He’d kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, picking up the few stray tears left with his lips, moving on to your nose, and finally, your lips.

It would all be okay…

Joel thinks of you. For three days straight, he thinks of you, and you float through his mind like the dream that you are to him, the most precious of things that lights up everything in his life. He’s itching, eager to see you as he always is when you’ve spent time apart, his muscle memory carrying him forward on those last legs of the trip home while his mind stays distracted. That familiar, warm feeling crops up inside of his chest when home comes into view, when he’s close enough to finally allow himself to fully dream about holding you again, hearing the sweet lilt of your voice, tasting you, fucking you until you’re raw and shaking and screaming like he was meant to do.

He follows the usual routine of stabling Willow first, his skin buzzing with anticipation as he rounds the yard to get to the front door, wondering just where you’ll be. He fights a hard on as he imagines you on your knees by the front door, having heard him coming, maybe even with the leash already on so he can pull it taut and remind you who you belong to. He shudders with a pleasant zing up his spine and adjusts himself in his jeans quickly before pressing on.

Joel’s daydreaming is cut short when he spots it, his mind spinning with the sudden, unexpected interruption. His breath catches, heart feeling like it skipped too many beats to be natural as he stops dead in his tracks. Joel watches his hand shake, feeling like it belongs to somebody else as he sees it reach down to the grass and pick up the strip of leather. Your collar.

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong, Joel thinks with a sinking stomach that quickly turns to resolve as he puts one hand on his revolver. He’s learned to track and hunt over the years, quickly noticing the way the earth has been disturbed, scuffle marks and drags of feet that jump out at him. He glances off to the woods then back to the ground, eyes narrowed, trying to discern which direction to begin looking for you. There’s no way you just… left, he thinks with a pang to the chest, picturing you walking off, dropping your collar right where he’d found it without a care in the world. The thought alone makes him mad with rage, with worry, fear, a heartbreak so complete he can barely let the thought pass through his mind before he shakes it off.

Besides, there was a struggle here, which means -

A noise catches his attention now that he’s on high alert and he’s up from where he’s crouched in a second flat, head whipped towards the front door of the cabin. A fear he hasn’t felt in so long - buried deep, locked away, and covered in cobwebs - threatens to choke him, freeze him right where he stands. He isn’t sure if he can face it, what he may end up finding on the other side of that door. But when he remembers it’s you, who he is to you - all those protective promises, vows to take care of you - he knows he’ll do anything.

It’s all happening before you can really process it. The door flies open, banging hard against the interior wall before it’s shoved right back open as it bounces back with the sheer force of it all. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was practically slammed right off its hinges with the power behind it as Joel thrusts himself into the room, wide footsteps stomping in a full sprint. You see him through your haze, your bleary, tear filled eyes, but you can’t really see anything at all, your mind having gone too numb to understand what’s happening in front of you, to believe that he’s really here.

Bryant turns his head, gearing up to react, but it’s too late, Joel’s animalistic yell that sends a shiver up your spine overpowering every other noise in the room as he yanks Bryant backwards by the collar of his shirt so that he’s off of your lap. You hear fabric tearing as he’s practically thrown across the room, hitting the far wall across the kitchen. The entire wall seems to shake, knocking off art and hooks full of jackets and bags hung up along the entryway wall, a dull creaking of the foundation following before he slumps down a little, stunned at the sudden interruption.

“What the -“ he starts, more to himself, but the noise is cut off into a choke as soon as Joel is on him again, pressing his forearm to Bryant’s throat, slamming him into the wall a few more times, his head bouncing off the wood siding as his eyes get that dizzy look in them. He struggles for a moment before fighting back, swinging his knife at Joel, who despite his size dodges the blow quite well, only a tiny scrape as it passes his sleeve, cutting through the fabric and leaving a small gash. Joel quickly grasps onto the wrist with the knife, putting every ounce of power into stopping Bryant’s knife from plunging into him. He’s practically yelling, a loud, long groan as he pushes powerfully back on Bryant’s arm. The bastard’s hands grip Joel’s shirt collar, trying to break free, ending in a tiny scuffle between the two men before Joel is able to get his forearm back on his throat and crush it there. He moves like he’s possessed - teeth sneering, eyes wide and unblinking almost as if they’re currently not seeing anything at all, a low growl continuing from the back of his throat. He’s a machine, his large frame and possessive personality built for moments like this.

Joel presses in on Bryant’s throat harder for a few moments before his other hand yanks him by the collar again, tossing him to the floor. He gasps for air and his chest heaves as he seems to remember his knife again, holding it up in self defense. It hardly seems to phase Joel who immediately bears down on him with another brutal, almost inhuman yell, nearly a growl as he straddles Bryant - thick, muscular thighs trapping him down. Joel grips Bryant’s wrist and twists it in a completely unnatural direction, making him scream out in pain, the knife clattering to the floor. And that’s when it starts.

Joel’s fist connects that first time, the noise unlike anything you’ve ever heard as it crushes bone, the man’s cheek the unfortunate victim of Joel’s strength and pure wrath. But he doesn’t stop at one, no, it’s a flurry of his fist flying over and over, that first spray of crimson not enough for the rage he feels, the punishment that needs to be doled out.

He’s grunting with each new punch, the man’s yells and sobs slowing into nothing, and you realize that a shrill sound has entered your consciousness over the ringing in your ears - you’ve started screaming at the gory scene before you, snapping out of your trance. Blood coats Bryant’s face, his features puffy and less recognizable now, and you see that Joel’s hand is destroyed where it hovers above now, knuckles red and stained along with his shirt that’s speckled with blood.

“Daddy! Stop! Please!” you scream out desperately, starting to sob. It’s too much, it’s all too much, the blood and the pain and the way that man you’d been so afraid of now looks so pathetic underneath Joel. He’d been so terrifying, but when Joel came into the picture, he’d barely had any fight in him, hadn’t stood even the slightest chance against the powerhouse that is Joel. When he whips his head towards you, you notice a spattering of blood runs across his face too, his teeth still set in a firm grimace, eyes dark and activated, someone you aren’t sure you recognize in this moment. But it’s still him, deep down in there, it’s still Joel.

Joel shakes in a frenzy as the man writhes a tiny bit on the floor, his head lolling to the side as he lazily spits out blood, letting it run out of his mouth as he groans languidly. Joel is frozen, like it’s the first time he’s really seeing you since he bulldozed in here, intent on only one thing: violence.

“D-don’t kill him, please!” you beg. You feel sick, the contents of your stomach threatening to come up as you face the possibility of having to watch this man die a brutal, painful death. You don’t wish it on anyone, you realize, even someone with such a vile heart like Bryant had shown you. He’d continued to use the knife on you, pokes and cuts that kept getting deeper, and the way he drank in the sight of your blood is one you’re not sure you could soon forget. He looked like he was in pure ecstasy, practically edging himself each time he’d cut you, rubbing himself through his denim either with your bloody thigh or his own hand. You were aching all over, body stiff and sore beneath the ropes, completely riddled with fear and a cavernous sadness, and yet… you don’t want him to die like this.

“Please…” you say more quietly, letting your features fall as you stare into Joel’s eyes. His fist slowly lowers, broad chest shaking with the heaving breaths he’s taking, but his eyes stay glued to yours until both of his hands are on Bryant’s collar again. He grips it tightly, knuckles going white around the now busted skin before he gives the man one more slam into the ground, sending him groaning louder again before he stills.

Then he’s up in a flash, his eyes wet as he rushes to you, grabbing you by the face, the shoulders, everywhere he can touch as his eyes rapidly sweep over your body.

“A-are you hurt? Are you hurt?!” Joel repeats the question before you even have a chance to open your mouth. “Jesus…” he mutters, your cheeks squished between his large palms as he breathes more rapidly, his eyes softer again, more like the man you know. He’s smearing blood all over your face, but neither of you care with the relief that is coursing through the both of you.

“A-a little…” you mutter, and the second Joel sees the cuts, the tiny bits of blood still oozing out or starting to dry around them, his eyes flash frantically, his face gaining back color and going red with rage. He’s working as quickly as he can with shaking hands to undo the ropes, twisting it around your body before snatching the knife off the floor and cutting through the ones around your feet. The second you feel it all fall free, you’re in his arms, like it was all one swift motion from him. Joel tries to speak, his throat tight and choked up as he just holds you, some indeterminate amount of time passing as you two live in this little bubble of relief that it’ll be over soon.

“Don’t kill him, daddy…” you finally whimper, gaining a slightly surprised look from Joel.

“He hurt you,” Joel says more harshly, pulling back to show you the rage still simmering in his dark eyes, his skin practically burning up with the desire to crush the motherfucker’s face in.

“I know… but I c-can’t watch it…” you admit, feeling weak, wishing you were more like Joel, a little more ruthless towards someone who’d gotten so much enjoyment out of causing you pain.

You both hear a small shuffle along the wood floor, and Joel drops you in an instant, turning towards Bryant. Your knees are more wobbly than you’d anticipated, and you fall to them on the floor, shaking as you watch Joel approach Bryant’s sluggishly moving body with grave footsteps. Your knees pull up to your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, rocking back and forth.

You only hear rustling, a tiny groan from Bryant, before Joel’s voice booms through the room.

“Move, sweetheart,” he says, the pet name not quite able to soften the harshness of his voice right now. Your eyes fly open as you skitter out of the way, seeing Joel dragging Bryant’s body to the chair you had just been sitting in, propping him up. You watch silently, eyes wide as Joel wraps the same rope that had restrained you around Bryant, making sure it’s tight, too tight to be even remotely comfortable, you think.

Joel seems singularly focused now, your presence in the room now an afterthought as Joel’s hand comes down to slap Bryant across the cheek. Once. Twice. Three times before the man stirs and his puffy eyes glare at Joel. You tuck yourself closer against the wall, shrinking in to feel as small as possible at the sight of Bryant’s eyes again. You can’t move, can hardly breathe or think straight as you continue to watch.

Joel grins, his blood covered face only adding to the sinister energy he’s giving off as he bends down to get closer to Bryant’s, greeting him with another harsh slap to his skin when his eyes start to droop again.

“Up an’ at ‘em, buddy,” Joel coos. His arms strain against his shirt when he turns the chair harshly, facing it towards the table where Joel leans back, resting his ass and thighs against the edge of it, looking at the tied up man expectantly.

“F-fuck you, man,” Bryant rasps out, blood trickling down his forehead and out of his lip. Joel leans back a little more, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head. He’s confident - this is his zone, his sweet spot right here.

“Fuck me? Fuck me? Thas’ weird… ‘cause I thought you were tryna fuck my girl here, take somethin’ that don’t belong to you.” Joel’s eyes are narrow slits, his forehead creased with deep set lines as he closely inspects Bryant before taking the revolver off his hip and tapping him under the chin when his gaze lowers. Harder, harder, until Bryant tears his swollen eyes up to Joel’s face.

“God, no, okay?! I don’t want to fuck your daughter, s-swear, you - you fucking psycho,” Bryant finally replies, lying through his teeth as he strains against the ropes. You know that he doesn’t notice it, only you who knows the truth sees the way Joel’s face has a flash of recognition that then turns to a wily grin. He doesn’t bother to correct Bryant’s mistake, instead holstering his gun and continuing to smirk downwards at him.

“What was that I was walkin’ in on then, hm?” Joel asks, pushing off the table and walking over to where Bryant’s knife had been discarded on the floor earlier, picking it up and looking the small blade up and down. “Hm?” Joel implores him again, making his way back. He bites his lip, starting to hold the knife in front of Bryant’s cheek, sliding the dull edge down to his throat.

“Answer me!” Joel yells, “What the fuck were you doin’ then?”

“F-fuck man, I-I-I’m sorry, okay? I-it was just - just a bit of fun,” Bryant replies pathetically, his voice shaky and so different from how he’d sounded with you. It was nice to know that Joel seemed to have that effect on more people than just you, then.

Joel almost laughs, an amused smirk on his face at Bryant’s blatant lie as he pokes the tip of the knife along his flesh, making him squirm. “She look like she’s having fun?” Joel says, gesturing towards you. You jump at the mention, the sudden pairs of eyes on where you sit curled up, continuing to rock your body back and forth. It’s soothed you enough, just enough to be able to focus on what’s happening even though all you want is to leave this room, forget this experience entirely as soon as possible.

“Does she look like she’s having fun?!” Joel booms out now, whipping his body towards Bryant and putting a hand to his throat, tightening it just enough to start cutting off the air.

“N-no, sh-she doesn’t,” he gasps out, and Joel releases him, smiling all the while, a dark, sick smirk plastered to his face. Joel turns, walking towards you, and you start to shake with all his attention focused on you now. You can’t read him when he’s like this - not that you typically could, but at least in the recent weeks you’d been learning to. But you can’t see it, can’t see him in full right now, to know if he’s upset with you in any way. You’d been so stupid to get yourself into this mess, so how could he not be?

“Shh, shh,” Joel says quietly when he picks up on your fear of his approach. You see Bryant shaking in the chair, trembling out of the corner of your eye, but your gaze is focused on Joel as he crouches down to your level with his back to the other man. “‘S’okay, babygirl, it’s okay…” he adds with a soft touch to the side of your head, fingers dancing along your hair, his voice quiet enough that you think maybe only you can hear it. His smile softens just the slightest bit, putting you at ease.

“Think we should be good hosts, shouldn’t we? Show our new friend how we like to have fun?” he asks you, loud enough for Bryant to hear now, and your eyes flit over to him, wide eyed and terrified at the suspense of what Joel is planning next. You can only give him a few quick nods in response - obedient - still silent, not even sure what you’re agreeing to, although you have an idea. Everything feels hazy, almost like you’re still trying to return to your own body as you watch from afar, just wishing for this to be over.

Joel helps you up, seeming to be extra careful and gentle with you, treating you like a fragile object as he leads you over towards the kitchen table, Bryant’s chair placed just a foot or two away from it. Your eyes avert to the floor as you hold your hands in front of yourself, meekly skittering past where he sits.

“On the table. Down,” Joel says, pressing your body down onto the table before you can get the chance to, your entire front half laying on it, legs hanging off the edge as your tip toes try to reach the ground to no avail. You can feel your breathing, fast and panicked as Joel comes up behind you, standing in between your thighs. He immediately runs both hands up the backs of them, the entire length under his fingertips as he goes higher and higher, hands roaming underneath the hem of your dress and to your ass, squeezing it.

“Wh-what the f-fuck, man…” Bryant interrupts incredulously, and you turn your face to look at him, resting the other cheek on the table, wide and unblinking as you watch his face screw up in horror.

“No,” Joel snips with his eyes on you, hands shooting out from under your dress to adjust your head, picking it up and moving it to face the other direction, having you look over at the counter and refrigerator instead. “You don’t look at him anymore, sweetheart,” Joel says, returning to his strokes of your thighs, this time dancing a hand right in between your legs to graze his fingers along the outside of your panties. It’s not as wet as he’d like, but he supposes he hasn’t expected you to be. Another reason he’s going to make this piece of shit pay.

“Y-you - f-fu-“ Bryant stutters out, and Joel turns his head to look at him as he slips a finger past the hem of your panties, groaning quietly when he feels your tight hole already getting more wet at his advances. He knows you’re not fully here, so he stays gentle for now, trying to bring you back to yourself before he goes much further.

“I what? Hm?” Joel responds smugly, making a show of pushing a finger into you, sending your hips twitching and a tiny yelp flying out of your mouth. You can suddenly feel your blood coursing through you, growing hotter, and you breathe out a wanton sigh when Joel pumps his finger a few more times.

“She’s - she’s your - you sick fuck,” Bryant exclaims, and you can hear the chair shaking, like he’s only just now fully realized just how much danger he’s in now, how far Joel could go to hurt him. Joel stays quiet, slipping himself out of you, and moments later you feel his fingers hooking into the sides of your panties, lifting your hips slightly to help him pull them down and completely off.

“My. What.” Joel says, nudging your thighs apart and lifting your dress up just enough that Bryant can’t get a good view of your ass, but Joel can see everything - the crest of your asscheeks above your thighs, your cunt already getting slick and glimmering just for him just from a few touches.

You hear Bryant sputter a moment before he spits it out. “Y-you’re fu-fucking your daughter! You fucking freak! You piece of shit!” he screams out towards the end, the words intended to be poison off his tongue aimed at Joel but landing without effect. The chair shakes louder now, and you wonder at this rate if he’s going to end up knocking himself over.

Joel laughs, a loud chuckle this time that reverberates through the room, and you feel the heat of his body move away, almost daring to turn your head to look around but you lose your nerve at the last second, balling your fists and waiting for what you hear next.

Joel is making his way to Bryant, and he’ll be damned if he has to hear another word out of this little piece of human scum for the short rest of his miserable life. He punches him square in the jaw, the sound making you flinch, and you’re suddenly very glad you’re following Joel’s instructions of keeping your head turned. Your underwear in his hand, Joel grabs at his jaw and yanks it open, shoving them into his mouth, loud, gagged protests coming from Bryant’s throat now muffled.

“Closest you’re ever gonna get to my girl’s sweet little cunt,” Joel says with venom. “An’ don’t you dare try to spit those out.” You hear him come back over to you, the familiar sound of his belt coming undone, jeans unzipping, and you try to brace yourself, fingertips pressed tightly against the tabletop, unable to get a grip on the smooth wood. Your chest is tight as you heave against the table, but half of it is out of excitement, you realize. You feel a thrill go through you, thinking on the way Joel has remained so cool, so collected, with that rage simmering just enough to not scare you completely. And all of this… is for you. To protect you.

Joel leans over your body, trailing kisses down your back, and you shiver, whining quietly as you feel his cock brushing against the inside of your thighs that are all splayed out and giving him the easy access he needs. You can practically feel his smile against your body as he gets lower and lower before standing straight and pushing himself between your legs. The head of his cock rests heavy at your entrance, and you’re about to suck in a sharp breath in preparation when your whole head is lifted up by his hands, strong and rough.

You’re caught off guard, feeling something tight against your neck, the panic subsiding in a flash to be replaced by a feeling of home. You smile a little, hand sliding to your neck to touch the leather, feel it against you again as you keen with a breathless sigh. In the same movement as he tightens and then buckles your collar, Joel sheaths himself in your tight heat and you scream out. It’s a heady, whining, almost animalistic moan, long and low before you suck in air between your teeth at the stretch.

“D-daddy…” you whimper quietly, your hips rising slightly off the table to meet him, pull him deeper. And he does, quickly pressing his hips flush and filling you completely, so much so that your eyes roll back and you can hardly catch your breath when he starts to move.

“Thas’ right, princess, good girl. Show daddy how much you missed him,” Joel coos out, putting a rough grip on your hips with his hands, hard and deep to try and leave marks as he holds you steady. You hear sounds of protests, muffled and distant, Bryant surely trying to cuss Joel out some more despite the gag in his mouth.

“Eyes on me!” Joel shouts in Bryant’s direction, and upon hearing protest he continues to boom out his commanding voice into the room. “You want to live? Keep them open.”

You whimper as his anger sends him pounding faster into you and his grip even tighter. You’re jostled along the table, only able to take and take and take over and over again, choked out moans coming out each time he reaches deeper and his cock brushes along your g-spot. You grind your hips down a little, seeking friction on your clit, and Joel groans as he watches your ass wriggling below him with pleasure as he continues to fuck you harder.

“Ain’t she pretty?” Joel comments, slowing his movements enough to speak clearly, although his breath is still labored. “So obedient to me, does every damn thing I say, tight little cunt only been touched by me…” Joel rambles on, clearly trying to get Bryant riled up. And it’s working - you hear him screaming behind the gag until his voice gives out, and you can practically picture him slumped in the chair, exhausted. But you don’t want to picture him, you want to picture Joel, trying to throw your head over your shoulder enough to get a glimpse of him. He’s high above you, stilted, rough movements sending his hair down onto his sweat coated forehead, but his eyes are on Bryant, smiling deliciously with satisfaction. He sees your head move out of the corner of his eye and takes a hand to press it back down onto the table, and you gasp at the roughness of everything all at once.

“Ain’t that right, sweetheart? Daddy’s the only one who gets to do this,” he says, punctuating the sentence by pulling out far and slamming back into you, sending you wincing as you try to catch your breath.

You moan, barely able to get out your words as you manage out a breathy, mousy little ‘yes daddy.’

You start to lose yourself, trying to stay grounded to the feel of Joel - his warm hands on you - one on your upper back and the other still anchored tight on your hip. His cock splitting you just like you’ve grown to love, taking away everything else in the room, in the entire world as you focus fully on the feeling. It helps as you try to block out the fact that you have an audience, the negative memories associated with the man who is now watching you writhe and moan pathetically underneath Joel. It almost starts to turn you on more once you start to think about it, picturing yourself from Bryant’s view - the sick, twisted feel of him watching what he’ll never have now that Joel is here, now that you’re safe.

“That’s right, watch this - she’s gonna come so pretty all over me,” Joel spits out with a loud tut, admiring the way your cunt is taking him repeatedly. “Shame this all belongs to me, ain’t it?” Taunting him, Bryant only responds with a gagged noise again, and you can tell he’s given up completely, resigned himself to this fate.

Joel’s attention refocuses on you, angling your hips and sending you completely over the edge, squeezing and fluttering around his already raw cock, and you can tell by Joel’s sloppy movements as he helps you ride your high that he’s close too. You can’t help how loud you moan out, having missed this, missed Joel so much, even though a part of you feels a squeeze of guilt for enjoying it under such dire circumstances.

“Daddy… please… oh… daddy….” you whine and whimper as you come down, feeling like you could come again already, legs trembling as Joel completely loses control, his loud grunts almost matching the volume of your flesh slapping together.

“Such a -“ he grunts “- good girl -“ His breathing picks up faster and faster, his noises more ragged and desperate. “F-fuck… take it, baby, take daddy’s cock.”

You feel yourself quivering, desperately reaching for that second high when it barrels through you suddenly just as Joel lets out a final groan, hips pressed flush to you as he spills himself inside your spent pussy. You twitch and mewl quietly as you come down along with him while he’s still inside, going soft as he pulls out.

Joel grins over at Bryant, putting on a final show of gathering all his cum that’s quickly running out of you and carefully shoving it back inside you, pumping his fingers deep. You yelp and try to scoot, oversensitive and sore before Joel finally pulls out, gingerly tucking your dress back down over your ass.

“Wait for me in the bathroom.” It’s a demand, and you’re far too exhausted to even think for yourself beyond his words, knowing that they’re what’s best for you, that Joel knows best. He’s drilled the mantra into your head too many times to even count now. So you do it, moving quickly to get off the table and scurry out of the room. You don’t bother to even look at Bryant as you pass, knowing it’ll be too much to see his bruised and bloody face, the fear in his eyes, and all because of you. Because of what you do to Joel.

You scamper up the stairs, your shaky legs giving out halfway as you stumble your way down the hall, practically crawling on your hands and knees by the time you reach the bathroom.

“She ain’t my daughter you dumb fuckin’ piece of sh -“ you hear Joel start to say in the distance, pushing the bathroom door closed before you can hear the sentence through, not sure you want to, anyways.

Once you’re alone, it all hits you. Hard.

It’s like you’re reliving the memories of everything from the day, moving through your mind in fast and slow motion at once, repeating over and over. Bryant’s knife to your throat, the cuts he gave you that now start to burn as your adrenaline fades, the way he’d… felt when you knew what he wanted from you. The fear you’d had reeking off your body as he took what he wanted from you that now disgusts you as you come to terms with how close you came to something terrible. This was all your fault. You’d left yourself vulnerable, pushed Joel to let you go outside, gotten too comfortable with this as a sanctuary to ever imagine that…

You cry harder, barely having realized you’d started crying at all, your cheeks already soaked and streaky as you let it all out. Muffled sounds float their way up towards you, unable to hear what either man is saying now, loud sounds following that can be mistaken as nothing but more punches from Joel. You squeeze your eyes shut, begging for it to all stop, for it to have been a bad dream, your hands flying up to your ears to cover them in a desperate attempt to block it all out.

You flinch when you hear the singular gunshot.

Heavy silence follows, a scream climbing its way up your throat, but you make no sound at all, choked down by your sobs and the way your body starts to shut down, completely overwhelmed. You’re alone for a long time, shadows and light coming in through the small window changing, before you feel his embrace covering you. You hadn’t heard him coming, his warm arms surprising you where you sat on the floor, wrapped up in yourself and your mind far, far away.

“It’s me, it’s me,” Joel says, attempting to reassure you when you jump and start to squirm, but your body just shakes, making Joel pull you tight against him. You slump down, and Joel lets you, hanging on as you unfurl your taut, tense muscles, sore from being locked into place in your uncomfortable position as you slide further and further down, curling yourself into his chest and lap.

“God damn it…” he murmurs against the top of your head, where he has his face buried, lips taking up residence there with gentle kisses over and over. “Could’ve lost you, princess,” he says, so quiet it’s almost like it’s just to himself, the disbelief in his voice making you start to cry all over again. Joel sits, still and patient with you just like that, hanging on for dear life, shushing you until you’re hiccuping on the way down from your sobs.

“I-I- I broke the rules, daddy…” you finally blubber out, your first words in what feels like forever, your throat scratchy and dry as the words are pushed out of your chapped lips. “I-I- the collar…”

“It’s right here, shh, my darlin’, it’s right here,” Joel says with growing sympathy, his own words sounding slightly choked up as he traces his fingers over the leather, tugging lovingly on it, hoping the movement will bring you back. Something familiar, he thinks, the way he always touches the skin right above the band, reminding you who you belong to.

You hardly seem to hear him as you continue sniveling incoherently. “A-and I s-swore… daddy I’m sorry… I s-swore at him…” you sob, your stomach tight with nerves and anxiety, worried that your confession will only make things worse for you.

Joel’s breath of laughter rocks you to your core, your perpetually closed, tearful eyes now snapping open, blinking as you get a bleary vision of the world back - the faded pink walls of the bathroom, Joel’s knees and legs stretched out in front of you. Joel can’t help but let out the tension with his chuckle, picturing you cursing out Bryant, feisty like he’s never seen you before. “Oh, honey, honey, my sweet thing…” Joel coos with a hand starting to stroke your cheek. “Thas’ okay, that’s alright, daddy isn’t worried about it. I’m only worried about you, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, taking a quiet moment to get your bearings and process his words. “R-really…? Even t-though I - I messed up?”

“Really really,” Joel says, tucking a hand under your cheek to turn your face to look up at him. It’s the first time you’ve really seen him and it makes you gasp, inhaling sharply as you take in his weathered features - exhaustion overtaking his eyes, dark circles abounding, the dried blood smeared across his face. You well up again at the sight and Joel quickly shushes you, shaking his head.

“Daddy…” you say, your voice breaking as you reach up to touch his face, the blood already dry and flaking off onto your fingers, making you flinch back. You catch his hand on its way from your face, and start to inspect it as you look at his large fingers wrapping around yours. More blood, more pain and suffering, his knuckles already deep, dark shades of red and purple. “Y-you need help… your hands…”

“I’ll be okay, sweetheart. Daddy’ll take care of it,” he says, starting to put on his brave, practical face for you again. You start to sit up, shaking your head softly, grasping both of his hands in yours as you sit next to him.

“Please… let me help…” you say in a whisper, bringing your forehead against his, sighing when his warm skin meets yours. “Please…”

Joel says nothing, as good of a yes as you’ll get from him right now, so you pull back, moving to stand up on your exhausted, shaky legs. A washcloth from the cabinet under the sink is soon running under warm water and being brought down to him, settling on your knees next to him as you cautiously dab at his knuckles. He barely makes a sound, a tiny twitch at the start the only indication that it phased him at all, hurt him. You bring your lips down and flutter them along each knuckle, and it makes his chest physically ache, watching you take care of him. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - it was never supposed to be so… fucking soft.

“You didn’t mess up,” Joel stutters out into the silence. “You shouldn’t say that, blossom.”

You just hang your head, focusing on his hands, watching the washcloth stain to reveal his now clean cuts and bruises.

“You know the rules, baby: you answer when I’m speakin’ to you,” he says half heartedly with a sigh, sounding tired. His free hand runs over his eyes, wiping at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose for a brief second.

“I did, though,” you say softly, beginning to work on his other hand as you continue to avoid his eyeline. He quickly pulls it away and out of your grip, your hands falling to your lap before Joel grips your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Hey hey, you listen to me. He would’ve come either way, okay? You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. Cut that shit out right now,” Joel says, just the right amount of tough love to get you to snap out of it slightly, starting to believe his words.

“O-okay, daddy,” you reply softly, leaning your cheek one way to press into his hand, almost nuzzling him. He leans forward, kissing your forehead with a gentle touch, another tiny part of your soul healed from his actions.

“You gotta get cleaned up, c’mon,” Joel says, inspecting your body, dried cum between your legs, the blood on your skin and dirt covering your dress. When you look down to see what he sees, your eyes fill with fresh tears - Joel’s favorite dress, and subsequently your favorite as well, stained with grass and dirt and blood, a complete mess all over the once pristine, white fabric.

“Y-your favorite…” you whimper, “It’s ruined,” you sob, not having intended to break down again as you fall into Joel’s arms. He helps you to your feet, dusting you off and looking at you with determination.

“We’ll clean it. Promise we’ll get it back to normal,” Joel says, his eyes soft with so much sympathy for you, for the little details you’re choosing to focus on, just wanting to please him, to look out for him. One arm still wrapped around you, he turns the water in the shower on, letting it warm up as he starts from the bottom hem, pulling your dress over your body. You feel so exposed but safe at the same time as he takes you in, eyes roaming your body with care, inspecting you.

“In,” he commands, and you step over the rim of the tub. Joel isn’t far behind you, stripping down his layers and joining you under the steaming water. The discolored water circles down, and you silently pray it’ll wash all of this away, somehow make today all better by the time this shower is over. You know, you know it’s silly, it’s the wishful thinking of a child, but maybe if you two stayed in here forever, you’d never have to face the aftermath.

You look down and touch one of the cuts on your shoulders as it burns from the water, Joel’s gaze following down and brow wrinkling immediately, his breath tight in his chest as he holds it there. He’s fighting to stay calm, to give you what you need right now, knowing that his anger will be best taken out somewhere else later. He’ll find a project, wood to chop, a gun to shoot, anything but show that side to you when you least need to see it. His fists tremble as they sit tight at his sides, a shaky exhale making its way out.

“Is it… gonna scar?” you ask in a hushed whisper. “Will I have to…remember?”

Joel’s tension falls, gathering you up in his arms again, kissing your shoulder right next to the gash. “Maybe, sweetheart. It might,” he tells you honestly. “But you don’t have to remember right now, okay?” he says next to your ear, the familiar rumble making you melt into him a bit.

“W-what did you do to him?” you finally spit out, the question having lingered heavily on your mind since he walked into the bathroom. You aren’t stupid, you aren’t clueless, you know what the gunshot had to mean, but you wanted to hear it from Joel to fulfill some sick curiosity.

“I took care of it,” Joel replies simply, a little cold in the delivery. He hadn’t told you about the blood, all the god damned blood. The floor, the chair, the table, the wall all scrubbed clean and placed neatly back into place, like nothing had ever happened. The body he’d had to haul out into the woods - far enough you’d never come across it and have to remember the piece of dirt who you owed zero of your mental space to. That knife that was wiped clean - what you deserved, not your blood coating it for all of eternity - tossed out in the woods with the body. It was over.

You just nod, seeming to pick up on any hidden meanings Joel had snuck into his sentence, leaving it at that, wondering if you’d ever even want to know the gory details. Joel kisses your cut again, finding the ones on your neck, giving them the same treatment. His eyes rake over your entire body, his face pinched in concentration as he searches for more evidence of his failure, wanting to somehow repent for each little mark you now had to live with. Your left shoulder, right shoulder, then he crouches down to your legs, water rushing over his body as he presses his lips to one thigh at a time, each of the several gashes that he’s thankful don’t seem so deep you’ll need any of his shitty stiching work. It no longer feels like worship to him, but a begging of forgiveness that he knows he can never give himself, even if you do. His desperation quickly forms to anger, his skin suddenly too hot underneath the shower, that comfortable feeling of rage for him simmering closer to a boil now.

The sniffle brings him back, your distant, puffy eyes leaking again at his slow, reverent expression of care on a body you’re not sure you want to be inside of anymore. He gazes up, lips still plastered to your skin, blinking the water away as you just stare down at him, your expression a mixture of amazement and despondence, unsure of what you need from him.

“It’s all over,” Joel murmurs a bit robotically against your wet skin before standing to meet you again, tentatively leaning downwards, his lips inching towards yours, testing the waters. He surprises even himself, knowing he’d just been buried to the hilt inside of you not long ago under much more intense circumstances, but you look fragile, like you’re hollow now, and he can’t stand the thought of hurting you further. He doesn’t know why he’s doing it, nothing to give you but his body now when his mind is so fucked beyond repair at the only thought that keeps screaming out at him in punishment: you could have lost her.

Unaware, your eyelids flutter shut and you tilt your head to accommodate him, a shy, apprehensive press of your lips to his. You feel butterflies bloom in your stomach, almost like you’re kissing him again for the first time before he pulls back and just holds you close, letting you listen to his heartbeat with an ear pressed close to his bare chest. It all still feels like a dream that Joel is here, and listening to his strong heartbeat only adds to your sense of wonder at him, what he was capable of today.

It’s simply starting to burst out of you, all the feelings you have for this man with nowhere to place them, no way to fully show your appreciation to him. The words leave your lips at the same time they pass through your mind. “…I love you,” you speak out softly, shy as you’ve ever been but melding your body a little closer to his to let it do the extra talking for you.

You expect a magical moment to follow, one where everything falls into place - your knight in shining armor who saved your life to transform into the fairy tales you’ve been reading about in these books that Joel relentlessly teases you for with rolls of his eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, readying yourself to hear his voice reply the same to you in earnest. Everything would be good again - yes, just like the books - beautiful, shining, and colorful. Your happily ever after.

But instead, the silence that follows grows louder than anything he’s ever said, swallowing the entire room in its tense nothingness as Joel only stiffens against you, not bothering to say a word.

274 notes · View notes

underdevelopedangst · 15 days

Note

🌝 booping trucker!ari while cockwarming

Chi, you wonderful menace, you have no idea what you've done to me!! this was going to be a short little scene and then it turned into THIS i'm sorry

bored on the road

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you're bored on the road and it gets you into trouble.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, cock warming, object insertion, sadism/masochism, slight bratting/brat taming, choking, breathplay, painplay, face slapping, come play/come eating, exhibitionism, dirty talk, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, brief objectification, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), possessive sex, tiny bit of aftercare, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, a mean hot man

word count: 4.7k

a/n: i know we're like almost a week past the tumblr boop fest but work was rough this week so apologies that this is a little late!!! also uh, this got way filthier than i was expecting so please enjoy i guess?? 😅

trucker king masterlist

Your head lay on Ari’s shoulder, the warm afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window of his truck and landing on your face, making you sleepy. But, though you were comfortable with your legs straddling Ari’s lap and your chest pressed so close to his that you could feel his heart beating against your sternum, sleep didn’t come.

You sat on your trucker’s lap, your bodies joined in the most intimate way while he navigated his rig through the frustratingly dull traffic on a dusty highway somewhere in the midwest. Both of you were quiet—Ari because he shut down all your attempts at conversation and you because you’d grown tired of trying to get him to talk.

Though he wouldn’t talk, Ari wanted you on his lap, your tight, soft hole keeping him warm while he drove. You’d acquiesced as always, happy to follow his command, to be useful and connected to your trucker.

Still, you were bored.

You’d turned your head to look out the window, but with traffic creeping along so slowly and nothing but the endless, barren desert stretching out beyond the road, there wasn’t much to look at. You could feel a restlessness thrumming beneath your skin, urging you to move, to do something, even as you tried to push it down.

Ari had made it clear he didn’t want to talk, and you knew well enough he wanted you to be a quiet, well-behaved little cockwarmer. You wanted to be that for him, you wanted to be content with cockwarming him like you so often were, but that restlessness clawed through your body until you finally succumbed to its siren’s song.

Sitting up straight, you wiggled your hips, watching your trucker’s face for a reaction as his cock shifted deep in your cunt. Though you knew it felt good for him, Ari merely grunted at the sensation, flicking a warning glare at you. Pouting, you squeezed him with your inner walls, clenching down hard enough to wring a huffed sound of exasperation out of him.

“Sit still,” he scolded in a low, rumbling growl, his words barely discernable in his gruff grumble. One of his hands shifted from the steering wheel to your lower back, pressing you down on his cock so the tip of him ground against a spot inside you that made your lashes flutter with pleasure.

Instead of settling you, his words and his hand on your back only made the frustrating restlessness worse. So you stared at your trucker in quiet contemplation for a moment.

Ari’s handsome face was hardened into a severe expression as he stared out at the unrelenting traffic clogging the interstate. His blue eyes were dulled with boredom and frustration of his own, the edges of his mouth pulled down in a frown framed perfectly but his dark beard. His brown hair hung down on either side of his face, calling attention to his handsomeness—and his unhappiness.

An idea came to you suddenly. A terrible idea. A wonderfully terrible idea.

Before you could think better of it, you booped Ari on the nose.

“Boop,” you chirped, pulling your finger away quickly. You knew the probability of retaliation from your trucker was high, though you weren’t certain what form it would take.

However, instead of growling or yelling at you to get back to being a quiet little cockwarmer, Ari simply cut his eyes to yours briefly. He raised an eyebrow, managing to look condescending even as he asked a silent question. He didn’t wait for a response, though, before he looked away from you and back out at the dusty road.

You huffed a little annoyed sigh at being essentially ignored by your trucker, your lips pursing in an even deeper pout. Though it was clear Ari didn’t like being booped, you refused to be deterred.

Tapping Ari’s nose again with your finger, you trilled, “Boop!” even louder than before.

Still, your trucker gave you nothing in the way of a compelling response. You should’ve seen the trap for what it was, but then, you were the one who got into Ari’s rig in the first place.

Determined to get a reaction out of your trucker, you pressed your finger to the tip of Ari’s nose like you were holding down a button and droned, “Booooop!”

Quicker than you would’ve thought possible, Ari tipped his head back and caught your finger between his teeth. He nipped at your skin hard enough to scold, but not break skin. It was so sudden, it shocked you.

“Ah!” you squealed at the sting of his teeth, the surprised sound dissolving into a giggle. You tried to pull your finger free, but Ari bit down a little harder.

His eyes cut to yours, a mirthful reprimand in his sparkling blue eyes. They practically shone in the warm afternoon light filtering into the truck cab.

“Daddy,” you whined, squirming your hips, the slight pain of his teeth digging into your skin going straight to your core. A soft moan slipped from your lips when you felt your trucker’s hard length twitch within your cunt, making you grind down on him as subtly as you could, trying to eke out the delicious friction of his cock rubbing inside of you. “I’m sorry for booping you,” you mumbled, pouting at your trucker. “I’m just bored.”

With one last nip to the pad of your finger, Ari let you go. However, he clearly wasn’t done with you because a moment later, his hand circled the front of your throat and he held you still, pinning you with his ruthless gaze.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine and you tried desperately not to show how much you enjoyed finally having your trucker’s attention.

“Aw baby, why didn’t you tell me you were bored,” Ari cooed in a mockingly sweet tone. It was the one he used just before he got really mean. Your heart beat faster with excitement.

His fingertips digging into your neck were a second warning, Ari’s hand squeezing your throat so tight, an involuntary whimper slipped past your lips. Instead of fear, though, there was only heady arousal dripping through your body, pooling in your core and leaking out around Ari’s stiff cock.

“Since warming daddy’s cock is so boring,” Ari began, his voice lowering into a deep, seething growl as he squeezed your throat even tighter, choking off your air supply. “Let’s see how you like it when daddy makes you ride something else, huh, fucktoy?”

You barely had time to grin at the malicious glimmer in Ari’s eye before he was forcing you off his lap and down onto the floor between the driver’s and passenger seats. The sting of pain in your knees as they collided with the hard floor scarcely registered when you were too curious about what your trucker had planned for you.

Ari shifted his grip to your chin and pushed your face against the gearshift sitting in front of you, the thick, leather-wrapped knob at eye-level from where you knelt.

The realization of what Ari expected you to do struck you like a freight train, stealing the breath from your lungs as your eyes widened. Even as your mind went blank with surprise, something dark and filthy deep inside your body twitched with interest, coming alive at the thought of sinking your pussy down on the gearshift of Ari’s truck.

“Lick daddy’s gearshift, sweetheart,” Ari ordered, mocking condescension dripping from his tone. Then your heart nearly stopped when he confirmed he wanted you to do exactly what you’d suspected. “You’re gonna wanna make it nice and slick if you don’t want it to hurt when you fuck yourself on it.”

Your eyes went heavy-lidded as you let Ari’s words wash over you, your pussy throbbing with desire and your lips dropping open in a silent moan. However, your trucker wasn’t an especially patient man, so he pushed your mouth against the gearshift, urging you to follow his command.

You knew well enough to follow any order Ari gave you, so you wrapped your hands around the shaft of the gearshift and pulled yourself closer. Pressing your lips to the leather and plastic of the shifter, you kissed all over it, making sure to leave plenty of drool behind.

“That’s it, cock slut,” Ari rumbled, his tone pleased. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he was flicking his gaze between you and the road, depraved delight sparkling in his eyes. “Show daddy’s gear stick some love.” His big hand settled heavily on the crown of your head, pushing your lips harder against the leather handle.

You redoubled your efforts, licking and kissing the gearshift until your lips and chin were covered in your own saliva. It was sloppy and messy, but you could tell from Ari’s warm chuckle that he enjoyed the sight of you making out with his truck’s shifter.

“You’re drooling all over that knob like you wish it was your new boyfriend, cock whore,” Ari teased, a wickedness in his tone that made your pussy throb and clench desperately around nothing. A soft whine caught in the back of your throat, but Ari heard the pathetic sound, laughing harder at you. “Is that it, gross girl?” he asked mockingly. “Ya wanna make daddy’s gearshift your new boyfriend?”

Using his grip on your head, he made you nod, rubbing your mouth lewdly against the slick leather knob. You whimpered, clutching the long shaft of the lever so you weren’t tempted to shove you hand between your thighs and impale yourself on your fingers. You were dripping down your thighs and you wanted something to shove deep in your aching, throbbing pussy.

“Well get him nice and wet, baby,” Ari said, the laughter in his tone stealing some of the edge from his command. “Cause he’s going in that tight cunt of yours—we’re gonna see how much we can stretch and ruin that needy little hole of yours.”

Ari’s hand left the back of your head, giving you room to lick and kiss and drool over the gearshift to your heart’s content. Distantly, you felt the drift of the truck as it slowly merged into another lane, but you were too preoccupied with your task to care much about the traffic Ari was navigating.

When your trucker was satisfied with your work, he grabbed the back of your neck and yanked you away from the gearshift. A protesting whine fell from your lips, which made Ari laugh loudly, the sound cold and mean as it filled the truck and made you hotter with desire.

“Time to fuck your new boyfriend, sweetheart,” Ari mocked, looking pointedly at the slick gearshift then back at you. “Let’s see if you’re still bored when you’re stretching your tight cunt on daddy’s gear stick.” His eyes danced with wicked mirth as he stared down at you from the driver’s seat, squeezing your neck when you didn’t immediately move to follow his command.

On trembling legs, you stood, bending at the waist to fit within the confines of the truck cab and turned around. If your bare ass was on display for any cars or trucks around Ari’s rig, neither of you cared. Thankfully, the oversized t-shirt your wore covered most of you.

As quickly as you could manage, you positioned yourself above the flat top of the gearshift and reached between your thighs to hold the shaft steady. You lowered yourself down onto the knob, the slick leather pushing against your dripping pussy.

However, though you were soaking wet with arousal and the gearshift was covered in your drool, the broad leather handle met resistence from your cunt, which refused to give and allow the thick object inside your small hole. No matter how you shifted or pushed down on the gearshift, it wouldn’t sink into your sopping pussy. A whine worked its way up your throat, leaking from your lips and filling the truck cab with your frustration.

“It’s too big, daddy,” you whimpered as you struggled, your thighs beginning to shake from the awkward way you hovered above the gearshift.

“Aw, baby,” Ari cooed before his voice turned cold and mean, “Do you think I fucking care?” He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides until your eyes flicked to his. His blue gaze danced in the afternoon sunlight with depraved intent. “I was perfectly content with you sitting in my lap, your cunt keeping my cock warm,” he growled, sounding furious as his gaze flicked between you and the road. “But you were bored—so you’re gonna fuck daddy’s gear stick or I’m gonna find something bigger to shove in that needy cunt of yours.”

Ari’s ruthless words had your pussy throbbing in response, more arousal dripping from your slit and onto the knob between your thighs. It was all you could do to whimper with desperation and rock against the leather shifter, your cunt aching to be filled.

The gearshift rubbed between your folds, teasing your little hole with its broadness. With renewed determination, you pushed down on the lever, pressing against it until your pussy’s resistence gave way and you finally—finally—felt the thick knob slip past the tight rim of your cunt’s entrance.

A loud, pornographic groan fell from your lips as your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of Ari’s gearshift sinking into your pussy. There was the burning sting of the thick, unyielding lever inside your stretched cunt, but the sensation softened into waves of pleasure that threatened to carry you away to a sea of ecstasy.

You craved more of that deliciously aching pleasure, so you pushed down on the gearshift, taking the leather knob deep inside your cunt. It felt like your pussy was greedy for more with how easy it was to lower yourself further on the shifter, until the top hit the end of you and you couldn’t take any more.

For a long moment, you hung suspended in the feeling of the fullness in your cunt, the leather knob so deep inside you, you were convinced that if you pressed down on your lower tummy, you’d be able to feel it. Your eyes were closed, mouth hanging open in pleasure-drunk bliss as you reveled in the sensation of having the strange object inside you.

However, your trucker clearly wasn’t happy that you’d forgotten you were putting on a depraved show for him, and he dragged your attention back to him in the meanest way possible.

Ari slapped you across the face, the cracking sound reaching your ears before you registered the sting. When the pain hit you, your pussy clenched tight around the gearshift inside you, and you moaned, blinking dazed eyes until your trucker came into focus. His blue gaze was dancing with amusement and cruel delight.

“Look at me while you ride your new boyfriend, cock whore,” Ari sneered meanly, his hand returning to your throat. He squeezed your neck lightly, a warning not to look away from him again. “Go on and degrade yourself for me, baby,” he rumbled, a grin slowly spreading across his handsome face. “Fuck yourself on my rig’s gear stick—show daddy what a disgusting little slut ya are.”

You stared into Ari’s eyes and moaned, your mouth parting and your gaze going heavy-lidded with pleasure at the depravity of his words. Your reaction only made Ari’s grin deepen, his eyes shimmering in the golden afternoon light filtering into the truck cab.

He kept looking back at the road, one hand on the wheel to steer the truck, the other around your neck. His attention was split because it had to be, but you had the compulsion to put on a show for him that was so distracting, he’d have trouble remembering to look away from you.

With that thought crystalizing in your mind, you lifted yourself up on the gearshift until only the top was lodged in your pussy, the knob stretching your tight hole to its limit, before sliding back down on the shaft. The lever was so stiff and unrelenting inside your body, the object so foreign, that a wicked shiver raced down your spine.

Your body knew it was taking something unnatural, something that was never meant to be shoved inside your slick hole. But you were riding it anyway, your pussy taking Ari’s gearshift like it was a cock and it turned you on more. Eagerly, you fucked Ari’s truck like it was him, bouncing on it happily, the knowledge that you were using something as perverse as a gearshift to get yourself off only making you gush even more with arousal.

“Daddy,” you whimpered on a moan, staring into Ari’s handsome face while you rode his gear stick. Pleasure and pain twisted your expression, your thighs trembling violently from holding you up, even as you kept fucking yourself on the leather knob.

“Ya still bored, cock whore?” Ari taunted, his hand around your throat pulling your upper body closer to him. Your nose brushed against the coarse hair of his beard and you moaned when you inhaled the familiar musky scent of your trucker.

The new position allowed you to brace your hands on Ari’s chest, and you nearly sobbed in relief as it took some of your weight off your shaking legs. The reprieve was so overwhelming, it took you a moment to gather your wits and answer Ari’s question.

“No, daddy, ‘m not bored at all,” you purred, using the new angle of your body to bounce your hips on the gearshift. The wet schlick sounds of your cunt fucking the knob filled the truck cab, and you let loose a low moan, the sound nearly muffled in Ari’s beard.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his hand squeezing your throat and moving you so he could see the pleasure dancing across your features. His gaze trailed down your body to where your ass was bouncing on his gear stick, his throat bobbing in front of your eyes as he swallowed thickly. “Good fucking girl.”

The look in his eye was nearly entranced and you couldn’t help but smirk a little to yourself. It had been a few seconds since he’d glanced at the road, and though you knew you were playing a dangerous game, you didn’t really think you’d cause Ari to crash his truck.

Probably.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimpered, pouting your lips at your trucker and dragging his attention away from your ass. His darkening eyes fell to your lips, exactly like you wanted. “It’s so big inside me, my little pussy’s so full, daddy.” You batted your lashes at Ari, pleased to see his pupils dilate even more, until only a thin ring of blue remained.

“Christ, baby, you’re making me jealous of my fucking rig,” Ari groaned like he was in pain. His fingers dug into the sides of your neck while the hand that had been on the steering wheel moved to his cock. Your trucker used his knee to steer while he stroked himself in his fist. “Ya like your new boyfriend better than me?” Ari asked, something dangerous in his tone.

You almost giggled at the idea that you could like his truck’s gearshift better than his cock, but you bit the sound back knowing he was asking a serious question. Holding Ari’s gaze, you shook your head solemnly.

“No,” you said honestly. “Nothing’s better than your fat cock, daddy.” You trailed your fingers down Ari’s chest before wrapping them around the tip of his cock, both of you using your hands to stroke his hard length. “You fill me up so good, daddy, I love feeling you pump me full of your come.” You pressed a sweet kiss to his bearded cheek, the gesture so at odds with the filthiness of what you were both doing that it made it hotter.

“Fuck,” Ari ground out through clenched teeth. Then, something in him seemed to snap right before your eyes.

Suddenly, Ari’s hand was gone from around his cock. He gripped the wheel and swerved the truck to the side to pull onto the shoulder of the highway. The truck went half off the road, the bumpiness making you ride Ari’s gearshift harder, wringing a depraved moan from you that made his eyes flare with more wildness.

A thick cloud of dust swirled around the cab, but neither of you gave any thought to the fact that it would shield what you were about to do from everyone else on the road.

“In the back, baby,” your trucker growled, throwing on his hazards and reaching for his gearshift to put the rig in park.

For a second, Ari seemed stumped about what to do. Since the shifter was still buried in your pussy, he couldn’t grab it like he normally would. Instead, he opted to grab your hips in both hands and use your body to shift the truck into park.

A delicious shiver at the perverse obscenity of the action raced down your spine and you moaned loudly. There was something about Ari using your body as an extension of his truck that was so fucking hot, your mind went completely blank for a moment.

Then his hands released you and the need to be fucked rushed back into your body. Without thinking, you were tumbling forward, pulling yourself off the shifter with a whimper and crawling eagerly onto the cot in the back of the rig.

“Hope your new boyfriend loosened you up, fucktoy,” Ari growled as he followed you into the back, pushing you down onto your hands and knees at the edge of the bed. “Because I’m gonna use your cunt like it’s my own personal fleshlight.” He slapped your ass hard enough to make you jump and yelp before you relaxed back into position.

You were perched on the edge of the cot, your knees spread and back curved in an arch, head resting on your arms so your ass was up and on display for your trucker. Without any more warning, Ari slid his stiff, leaking cock into your slick, warm cunt.

Your trucker groaned loudly, the pleasured rumble warming your heart with pride as he buried his thick cock in your snug little pussy. A soft smile tugged at the edges of your mouth as Ari curled around you, covering your back with his chest, his hands reaching around to grope your tits through your cotton t-shirt.

“Christ, ya feel so fucking good, baby,” Ari growled, rolling his hips in tight circles, fucking you hard and fast.

The sound of your bodies clapping against each other drifted to your ears, adding to the pleasure gathering in a tight coil in your core. Your trucker’s face was pressed into the back of your neck, his breath hot and harsh against your skin, raising goosebumps all over your body.

“You’re still so fucking tight, cock slut,” Ari rasped, nipping at the underside of your jaw and making you clench down on his cock from even that brief bite of pain. “You were made to take my cock, weren’t ya, sweetheart—my cock and anything else I want, huh, kiddo?”

Ari’s husky chuckle and his degrading words ghosted over your cheek and you could do nothing else besides moan your response. You’d fuck anything he told you to fuck, riding his gearshift whenever he wanted, as long as he fucked you exactly like he was afterward. Ari’s cock filled you perfectly, like your body truly was made for him, the tip of him grinding against your cervix and making you see stars.

It seemed Ari didn’t need you to answer his question, because he went on speaking filth in your ear, one of his hands wrapping around your throat and choking you while the other groped your tits and plucked at your nipples.

“Ya gonna come on daddy’s dick, sweetheart?” he taunted, his tone mean and cruel and so cold it made your desire flare hotter. “Gonna cream all over your filthy trucker’s fat cock even after I made you fuck my gear stick, baby?”

Your lips moved, forming words before you could force them off your tongue. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, daddy,” you whispered, riding the edge of your release. Ari’s cock pummeled your cunt, pounding so deep you could feel him in your throat, and it was almost enough. “Please, daddy,” you cried, needing just a bit more stimulation to push you over.

Ari grunted in your ear, “Alright, kiddo,” before reaching between your thighs and finding your clit, slippery with your wetness. His thick fingers rubbed the aching nub and it was exactly what you needed.

With a piercing cry, you tumbled headfirst into an ocean of pleasure, your body going tight and taut as the coil in your core snapped, warm bliss flooding through you. Your cunt gripped Ari’s cock, choking his thick dick in a vise that made him groan viciously.

Your trucker rutted into you furiously, finding his release moments later. He buried his cock deep inside you and came, grunting his pleasure as he emptied his balls in your cunt. You moaned softly at the feeling of his hard length twitching inside you. His low groan as your cunt wrung every drop of seed from his dick filled you with satisfaction.

For a long moment, you and Ari savored the pleasure of your bodies together, but it couldn’t last. Your trucker didn’t linger—he couldn’t, not with his truck idling on the side of the highway.

Once he’d caught his breath, Ari pressed a rough kiss to your cheek before pulling out of you and shuffling up to the front. He collapsed into the driver’s seat while you fell onto your side, your eyes watching as he grabbed the gearshift and put the truck back in drive to pull back onto the highway.

Your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but you kept them open long enough to catch Ari licking your juices from his palm. An unmistakeable groan rumbled deep in your trucker’s chest when he tasted you and your pussy gave a week throb in response. Too tired to move, you smiled and sank into the waiting arms of the sleep that called to you.

However, Ari’s snapping fingers dragged you back into the world of the waking.

“Get up here and clean up your mess, kiddo,” Ari ordered, his voice gruff and stern.

There was a warmth to his tone that you recognized as the satisfaction you’d given him by making him come, and you couldn’t help smiling at your own pleased pride. But his words were a command all the same, and you knew what you had to do.

Gathering your strength, you hauled yourself up from the cot and shifted onto your knees between the two seats. You leaned into the gearshift and began licking your slick from the leather, turning your head enough to catch Ari’s eye. He wore a satisfied smirk, reaching down to pet your head as you did what he’d told you.

Humming happily, you smiled and cleaned up the gearshift like the good girl you wanted to be for your trucker. By the time you were done, the sun was low in the sky. The golden light in the truck had darkened into a fiery glow, and you felt the tug of sleep more insistently.

Ari chuckled when he noticed you were half-asleep and still licking his gearshift. He helped you into his lap, guiding you down onto his cock to keep him warm while he continued driving.

You fell asleep against your trucker’s chest, happy and satisfied, the restlessness that had plagued you earlier in the afternoon having been finally subdued by Ari.

Still, you’d discovered what Ari would do if you booped his nose, and you tucked that knowledge away, saving it for a rainy day when you were inevitably bored again. He was a truck driver after all, there were bound to be more boring days on the road. But you knew your trucker would make sure you were entertained—by making you entertain him.

trucker king masterlist

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underdevelopedangst · 15 days

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“a’ight, now look directly into this camera and tell us your name, age, and where you’re from,” the cameraman speaks, his gold-ring clad hand carefully adjusting the zoom of the lens on the expensive camera as you sit on the crème colored couch with a cheesy smile, your swollen lips all glossed and glittery.

letting out a nervous giggle, you flip your blown out hair over your shoulder, gently adjusting your barely there skimpy bikini top to cover your hard nipples, “uh, you can call me angel,” you bat your cat-like lashes, before mushing your glossed lips together with a ‘pop’, “m’twenty-one, and i’m from carolina, puerto rico,” you seal with another shaky laugh, swallowing thickly as you steal a quick glance at the man behind the camera, he was a bit older than you, and very handsome — you couldn’t help but be a silly little school girl.

with a feigned-defeated sigh, the cameraman zooms in on your plump breasts, earning a wide grin from you as you playfully shimmy, allowing your perky tits to jiggle, “puerto rico, huh?” he chuckles, licking over his pink lips as you swiftly run your acrylic-nails finger across the pink-heart shaped pendant that dangled from your bellybutton piercing, “so fuckin’ pretty,” he comments, trailing the camera down to your lower half, focusing on the way the plush curves of your thighs and ass swallowed the flimsy fabric of your tiny boy shorts.

with a clearing of his throat, the cameraman brings the camera back up to your pretty little face, “is this y’first time getting fucked on camera, angel?” he asks, his voice heavy in greed as you nod immediately, “fuck — why don’t y’bend over for me and show me that cute little ass of yours,” he beckons, his eyes hanging low as you obediently stand from the couch.

you couldn’t ignore the goosebumps that rose on your skin as you turned away from the camera, before pulling your the thin cloth further up your fat ass cheeks, before bending over with a muffled giggle as you bit down into the chunk of your bottom lip, “look at that,” the cameraman ogled, letting out a throat groan as his warm and calloused hand suddenly cupped your asscheek, gently jiggling the supple skin.

“y’like it?” you questioned, glancing over your shoulder, letting out a surprised gasp as the cameraman’s hand abruptly slapped down onto your ass.

“i love it, angel— m’gonna open you up a bit, yeah?” he informs you, his eyes squinted as he crouches down onto one knee, carefully angling the camera lens at the crease where your puffy pussy and tight asshole met.

your nails slowly dug into the fabric of the couch as the cameraman’s thumb curled into your skin, pulling your asscheek apart, leaving your wet and eager holes exposed to the cold air conditioned environment of the casting room. you failed to hold back a low mewl as the tip of his thumb grazed over your glistening pussy.

“fuuuck, she’s so pretty,” he cooed, jiggling your asscheek once more, before standing firmly on his two feet as he closed the distance between you two, his jean-covered bulged pressed firmly against your ass, “y’gonna be a star, y’know that, angel?” he praises, holding the camera impressively still with one hand as he undoes the button of his jeans with the other, seamlessly slipping his hand under the waistband of his briefs as he releases his firm cock from its confines.

cutely, you wiggled your hips, your pouty lips plagued with a coy smile as your ass brushed against the flushed cameraman’s erect cock. your cute little act quickly came to a halt as he locked his hand around the dip of your waist, pushing his hips closer into you as his dick laid perfectly atop of your ass. a cocky chuckle left the man’s throat as he measured his dick, his mouth watering at how his tip surpassed the top of your ass and rested on your lower back.

your bambi eyes widened at the feeling of his length resting on you, your heart rate increasing as he pulled down your tiny shorts, revealing your bare ass and sweet pussy.

“m’gonna make you a star,” he huffed with a smile, before spitting a glob of warm saliva down the crack of your ass, lowering the camera to catch how it drooled down into your pussy, before tapping his flushed tip against your aching hole.

a squeaky moan left your lips as he slowly pushed into you, your sticky lips parted in pleasure as his flexed arm grips the the couch, your small hand closing over his forearm as the two of you let out satisfied moans. warmed tears were quick to brim around your waterline as he pushed his hips further into yours, the camera now close to your face.

“i love it,” you smiled, your lips stretch into a drunken grin as you pose for the camera, the sounds of the cameraman’s hips slapping into yours now muffled as you focused your fuck-me eyes on the camera.

you knew that you were always meant to be a superstar — no matter what it took, or who you’d meet along the way.

even if it was the eager cameraman who was fucking himself deep inside of you.

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underdevelopedangst · 17 days

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Despite everything

Title: Despite Everything Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Characters: Sebastian Sallow x reader Plot: Despite everything he did, despite everything he said to you, the months of pain caused he caused you. Some part of you still saw the good, saw the kind and the caring and the protective. Most of all you still saw the hurt and the pain he suffered, so despite everything you gave him back the one thing he loved most in the world. His sister . Themes: Angst, hurt/comfort Warnings: Asshole Sebastian, mild hurt/comfort, love confessions, fem!reader. Word count: 6,769 Notes: This is based in 7th year, all characters are ages up to 18. I also have yet to finish the game, so please excuse any errors! This also got very out of hand very quickly and I apologise for the length

Golden light filtered through the windows of the Sallow home in Feldcroft illuminating everything inside in a warm honey glow that gave Anne a feeling of hope as she watched the person who had slowly became her best friend over the past year and a half, fiddle with her wand, twirling it between her fingers and twisting and turning it absentmindedly as her eyes scanned over the piece of parchment in her hands.

It was an unlikely friendship, but one that was true and ran deep. It was a friendship built on trust and love and seeing every part of the other. For too long all people saw in Anne was her illness, the dreadful curse that had taken over her life too long. They pittied her and feared her at the same time, they didn’t want the same thing to happen to them and even though it wasn’t contagious people tended to stay clear of her. But [name] wasn’t like that, she saw Anne wholly for who she was. She saw her as a person rather than her illness,

She saw the Anne that many thought was lost the day she was cursed, she saw the daring adventurous girl she once was. [Name] always revelled in reading and hearing the stories of Anne and Sebastian when they were children, their mischieviousness and the trouble they would get into, she proclaimed one day that Anne and Sebastian were probably the reason Solomon had grey hairs, causing the two girls to fall into a fit of giggles.

And Anne saw [name] as more than the Hero of Hogwarts, she saw past the facade of strength and courage to see the crumbling girl beneath who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. The girl who was suddenly whisked into a world of magic and was the only one with the power to stop it from crumbling. She saw the vulnerability and the fear hidden deep below the mask. But she also saw the kindness and the protectiveness, saw it in the way she spoke of her friends. Of Ominis and Sebastian and how she would have burned the world to the ground if anything were to happen to them, and those two boys were the most important people in her life and as soon as she saw how [name] cared for them she was quickly added to the list.

Since their initial meeting, the girls had sent each other countless owls back and forth and [Name] would visit Anne any time she could, though her visits became less frequent towards the end of their 5th year. Anne had asked about in her letters, saying she missed [Name] and even tried to sweeten it by saying that even Solomon missed her because he loved the way Anne’s eyes would light up anytime [Name] was around and he was happy she had a friend like her. Something had changed,she just didn’t know what and though [Name] never divulged the information she had a feeling it was to do with her stubborn, hard-headed brother who couldn’t see a good thing if it him in the face with same force as a bludger.

It was during the summer of their sixth year that Anne finally pulled the information from Ominis who had come to see her and Sebastian. Sebastian and Solomon had gone off to do some shopping, the pair slowly mending bridges together, and Anne had asked Ominis about [Name]. She had noticed the way he fidgeted uncomfortably, pulling on his sleeves and chewing on hislips nervously. After much pestering from Anne’s side, Ominis had finally relented and told her what happened.

About her working with a goblin and Sebastians reaction, him calling her ignorant and icing her out as if she had never meant anything to him. To how he was treating her like she meant nothing to him, like she didn’t even exist. And Anne swore if she could she was going to beat her brother black and blue because she was simply the best thing to ever happen to him. Ominis had sensed her getting worked up, the tension and heat in the room rising, and he had let her know that Imelda Reyes already landed a punch on Sebastian that landed him in the hospital wing with a broken nose and Gareth Weasley had accidentally spilled a potion on him that made him smell like sour milk for 2 whole weeks. That had got a chuckle out of her and Ominis promised to tell [name] that she should come visit and that was enough for Anne.

So [Name] did just that, she and Ominis conspired with Anne and Solomon to have her go over when Sebastian wasn’t around so the girls could talk. It was during one of these visits that [Name] revealed she hadn’t stopped looking for something to help Anne, even if she couldn’t find a cure she wanted to find something that could illviate the pain and make it so Anne could return to Hogwarts. Anne was gobsmacked when she said it, not wanting her to loose herself in the dark magic the same way Sebastian had.

That was when [name] explained to Anne that she wasn’t going anywhere near dark magic ever again, her use of it had left her scarred and broken and she was still putting herself back together with the help of her friends, and she revealed her connection to ancient magic and how she could wield it. She told her of Isidora taking the pain away from her father and how Sebastian had damn near lost her mind when she refused to do it. She explained to Anne she simply didn’t know enough, she had seen what happened to Isidora and those she claimed to help by taking away their pain and she was not prepared to take Anne out of one torment to throw her straight into another. She had to study it more and she didn’t care how long it took but she would find a way to help Anne that didn’t involve dark magic or Isidora’s method.

[Name] always kept Anne informed of her research, telling her what she had learned and the progress she had made even if she was only half a step closer, she also told her stories of Hogwarts and the spells they were learning how the more she researched healing the more she wanted to become a healer. This continued for over a year, the two becoming best friends and sneaking around Sebastian but never mentioning him, both recognising the pain he had caused [Name], and to now.

It was two weeks before the end of summer and [name] returning to Hogwarts for the 7th and final year. She had spent most of her summer researching and working and perfection and finally, finally she found the last bit she needed and as soon as she had confirmation from Anne that Sebastian was out of their home and would be gone for a few hours she used floo powder to travel to the Sallow home where had been pacing and re-reading for the last hour as Anne watched on amusedly, hope blooming in her chest.

Finally [Name] folded the parchment that had been in her hand up and returned it to her pocket and faced Anne with a smile. “Are you ready?”

Anne nodded and whispered a quiet “yes” just loud enough to [Name] to hear, but it was all she needed to hear. If Anne was ready, so was she. She stood beside Anne’s bed, the point of her wand nearly touching her hair line, she spoke a soft encatation the tip of her wand glowing blue, the familiar surge of ancient magic flowing through her and making her feel feather light.

Moving the wand slowly down Anne’s forehead a trail of light followed from the first point, she stopped at point below between Anne’s eyebrows she repeated the incantation again and another pool of light followed as she repeated the steps again moving her wand down Anne's body, stopping at her throat, the center of her chest just slightly right of her heart, at the base of her strernum, at her belly button, and finally at her feet, the trail of light following the path.

Once she finished the last incantation, he moved her wand once again, placing it directly above Anne’s heart a repeated another incantation this one different can causing the magic to spread out around Anne until every inch of her body was covered in the brilliant blue of ancient magic. The tip of [Name]’s wand dug into the soft flesh of Anne’s chest, not hard enough to cause pain but enough for it to be felt and for her to control the magic working its way through Anne’s body with a lot more precision and she closed her eyes.

It was an intense feeling, being able to move and see the magic rolling through someone's body. Being able to locate the curse that had buried itself deep inside Anne. She found it quite quickly, seeing it as dark, throned vines that had twisted itself around Anne’s nervous system and rooted right in her heart. Slowly, [Name] started untangling the vines using her magic to weaken their grip on Anne’s body, pulling them away and covering them in the light of ancient magic causing them to wither and wilt away, she started with the vines twisted around ther nerves slowly killing them all before moving on to the organs and then the muscles and finally to the root of the dark magic lodged inside her heart. This one was a little trickier and required a lot more care and patience, slowly she pulled at the roots, pulling them out one by one and killing them until only one remained and then until none remained.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and and removed her wand from Anne’s chest, the light at the end extinguishing as the ancient magic around Anne faded. The golden light that had been shining in the room previously had gone, now the room was illuminated in a silver hue the full moon outside the window shining on the two girls and providing the only light in the room.

“How do you feel?” [Name]’s voice was soft, exhaustion making its home in her body as her muscles started to feel heavy and her brain started to fog. She knew the magic would take it out of her, knew it would leave her exhausted but she wouldn’t let Anne see that, she would only worry [Name] had done too much at once and fuss over her.

“I feel… good.” Anne smiled, the pain she usually felt gone, the tension in her muscles easing. Breathing was easier and her chest felt light for the first time in years, she took a deep breath and reveled in the fact that it didn’t hurt. A smile quickly came to her lips as she sat herself up, back leaning against the headboard, tears pricked at her eyes as the joy took over and she couldn’t help but let a few slips past and a joyous laugh feel from her lips. [Name] started tearing up as well, reaching out to take Anne’s hand as she mumbled out ‘thank yous’ between the tears.

“What are you doing here?” An angry voice cuts through the sobs of Anne and causes both girls to whip their head to the door to see Sebastian standing here his face red and nostrils flared as he glared directly at [Name]. The girls eyes widened as she stood in shock, she knew there was always a risk he would come home but she thought she had enough time to leave before he did but the spell must have took much longer than she thought. She wanted to apperate out there and then, to disappear and not face the angry face of the boy she still cared so deeply for despite everything. Beside him Ominis stood, his hand outstretched across Sebastians chest to stop him from charging forward.

“Sebastian…” Ominis’ voice was a stern. It was a warning to his friend not to do anything stupid or in anger. Sebastian simply growled in response placing his hand on Ominis’ and pushing his friends hand away as he stalked towards [Name].He was taller than her now, she remember being able to look him in his eyes in 5th year but he had shot up in 6th year and now he towered over her, eyes cold and harsh as he glared.

“What.are.you.doing.here?” His voice was harsher than his glare, the sound of it actually struck fear into [Name]’s heart as she strugged to come up with a response. The exhaustion had fully sank in now, her muscles were giving in on her and she could feel her legs shaking, barely holding her weight up and her head felt like it had been submerged underwater and everything seemed so far away and so close all at once. Her chest constricted, breathing hard to do as every breath felt like a sharp pain. Her body was starting to shut down, she needed to rest and if she didn’t leave soon she was going to collapse.

Anne’s hand left hers and instead grabbed Sebastians, drawing his gaze away from [Name] just in time as she tumbled slightly backwards. Anne saw it happened from her periphery, the way [Name] was struggling to standing and seemed to sway from side to side, but she knew she needed to calm Sebastian down before she could help her friend.Sebastian’s glare softened slightly when he turned to his sister and the hand she wasn’t holding closed over the top of hers in comfort. “Sebastian, she was helping me. She found a cure.”

Sebastians eyes widened at her words, the harshness melting away and making room for shock instead as his eyes darted between Anne and [Name]. “What?” His words caught in his throat,a lump forming and stopping any more words from coming out as he eyed his sister up and down and reached out to cup her cheek and rub it gently with his thumb. Anne nodded her head as a confirmation that it was true, “I’m cured Sebastian.”

That was the last thing [Name] heard before she hit the floor, the exhaustion finally taking over her body and rendering her unconscious. Ominis jumped at the sound, eyes immediately landing on the spot where [Name] had fallen, his hand was in his hand leading him to hear before Sebastian could even mutter a word or get close to her. His hands were gentle as he felt for her arm, fingers moving slowly down until he reached her wrist he pressed into it gently a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he felt the her pulse. “Sebastian, go get Solomon.”

Sebastian nodded and released Anne’s hand and face, rushing down to get his uncle. Anne slowly moved from her place on the bed, so used to being careful with her body to join Ominis on the floor and placing [Name]’s head in her lap as she ran a hand through her hair gently and placed her forehead against hers as a silent thank you for what she had done through she knew [Name] couldn’t feel it. Sebastian and Solomon quickly returned, Solomon’s shock of seeing Anne up and not in pain quickly being replaced with mild panic at the sight of the unconscious witch in her lab.

“We need to get her to a healer, now”.

༺═────────────═༻

When [Name] awoke she was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, Matron Blainey standing over her with wand in hand as she did some basic checks on her body. “Ah, look who’s awake”

“Matron Blainey? How did I get here?” Confusion clouded [Name]’s mind, the last thing she remembered was Sebastian towering over her, his icy glare piercing through her entire body. It hurt to try and remember anything else, she tried to sit up but Matron Blainey placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head gently.

“You’re exhausted dear, you’ve been unconscious for two days. Solomon Sallow brought you in alongside a very healthy looking Anne Sallow who explained you had used ancient magic to cure her.” [Name] lay back down, head hiting the pillow with a soft ‘thump’ as she out an exacerbated sigh, she hated being confined to a bed and not being able to move. More than that she wanted to see Anne and make sure she was still okay. Matron Blainey placed a hand atop her forehead as she continued speaking, “the magic you used exhausted you and caused you to collapse in the middle of Anne’s bedroom. Solomon tried to find a healer in Feldcroft but they were of gathering supplies and so he apperated you here, he was just lucky I was doing some final checks before the new school year started”

[Name] nodded her head gently, the movement causing immense pain in her head as her body finally registered the aches flowing through it, including the migraine that was now blaring right behind her head. “And Anne?” Matron Blainey took out a wiggenweld potion and gently had [Name] drink it, “For the pain”

She capped the empty potion bottle before turning back to the station beside the bed and lifting a hot towel and laying it gently against [Name]’s head. “She’s good, I checked her over myself and she seems to be in tip-top shape thanks to you. In fact I believe they are currently speaking to Professor Black about her returning to Hogwarts after the summer.” A smile broke out onto [Name]’s lips which Matron Blainey returned, “Now rest. Your parents have been informed of what has happened but I want to keep you here for observation for a bit longer”

Relief filled [Name]’s body, it had worked and Anne was okay with that, she closed her eyes and feel into a deep slumber.

༺═────────────═༻

[Name] spent 3 more days in the hospital wing, most of it she spent sleeping and recovering under the careful eye of Matron Blainey who informed she had quite a few visitors, Anne for one was coming almost daily alongside Ominis and they spoke to her as she slept. Talking about how excited Anne was to get back to Hogwarts and how she would have extra assignments to do to catch up, she might have to do an extra year to complete bother her O.W.L.S and her N.E.W.T.S but she didn’t mind as long as she was back. Matron Blainey told her Ominis usually just watched Anne talk but joined in occasionally mostly just to vent about his summer had been terrible with his family and catching up with Anne. She had also said Solomon had visited a few times and when asked about the flower at her bedside, the matron had informed her that Sebastian had left them it was beautiful bouquet of blue hyacinths and daffodils.

[Name] was shocked Sebastian had came, he hadn’t spoke to her in over a year and a half and openly spoke bad about her to friends, berating her and undermining her skills and efforts and yet here he was visiting her and leaving flowers. When Matron Blainey commented on the blue hyacinths and daffodils being an unusual combination, [Name] had simply replied, “In the language of flowers, blue hyacinths are a symbol of remorse and sincerity and daffodils mean forgiveness and hope”

The flower choice was deliberated, Sebastian knew [Name] had a small fascination with the language of flowers and had spent time in her 6th year learning it with Professor Garlick, she assumed he had gone to either her or Ominis for advice on the flowers to use. But she appreciated the sentiment all the same. Matron Blainey had simply nodded her head and commented that he must be trying to apologise for something incredibly bad if he was going to such length. Though she didn’t verbalise it, [Name] definitely thought ‘you can say that again’.

After the 3rd day in the Hostpial Wing, [Name] was allowed to return home and get ready for the upcoming school year, it was only a week and a half away after all. Her parents fussed over her a little, making sure she was okay before scolding her softly for beingso reckless with such a powerful spell and then they told her how proud they were of her for what she did.

The week and a half leading up to school was uneventful, she got owls from Imelda, Poppy, Garteth and Anne about the upcoming year and she answered them all as quickly as she could. She was excited to start the new year, learning new spells and polishing up all her other spells and skills but yet one thing niggled in the back of her mind, a constant thought that never seemed to disappear no matter how hard she tried to push it away. That thought was simply Sebastian Sallow.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do about the curly haired boy. She had loved him since 5th year, even after he called her ignorant and began ignoring her. Began speaking bad of her to anyone who would listen, he had broke her with that. She thought he had cared about it, at one point thought he loved her like she loved him but that didn’t seem to be the case. And then he goes and sends her a bouquet of forgiveness and turned her mind upside down once again with thoughts of him. Whatever thoughts she had of him and wanting to forgive him though were pushed to the side, she had spoke to Imelda and Poppy in her letters about what happened and they both had the same sentiment that flowers were not enough and an apology and they would want more, well Imelda would want him to beg for forgiveness while Poppy would want more of a show of remorse and though she might not agree with how they want the forgiveness to be asked for, she agreed he need to earn her forgiveness and the flowers were simply not enough for him breaking her heart. So as she boarded the Hogwarts express, she pushed all thoughts of him to the side and joined her friends in a carriage to have a proper catch up of what they did over the summer.

༺═────────────═༻

It was two weeks into the new term and Sebastian still hadn’t made a move to properly apologise to [Name], instead he just stared longingly at her across the tables in the Great Hall and in classes watching as she laughed and smiled with her other friends, with Gareth Weasley. The sight of the red-head making her laugh filled him with jealousy, jealousy that was undeserved mind you and he knew it. He knew he had no right to be jealous,[Name] wast his and she never was no matter how much his heart called out to her . He was the one that pushed her away, he was the one who couldn’t see past his anger and his stubbornness to see she was only trying to help and by the time that word got to him that it was Rockwood who had cursed Anne and not goblins it was too late, the damage was already done. He didn’t think there was anything he could say now that could make her forgive him, even if Matron Blainey had told him she adored the flowers and took them home with her, somewhere deep in his mind told him she would never forgive him and that part of him always won over the side that told him to at least try.

A ‘smack’ to the back of his head brought him out of reprieve and he turns to his sister in shock, eyes wide and a look of ‘what the fuck was that for’ flitted accross his face. Anne simply huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and she stared at her brother incredously, “You can’t be serious?”

The look of shock turned to a questioning one as he looked at his sister, “What?” Beside Anne, sat Ominis who rolled his eyes at his friends denseness, the action was almost in synch with Anne’s as she face palmed and rolled her own eyes. “You are such a dumb ass Sebastian Sallow”

“What for?” Sebastian knew he did a lot of stupid things, a lot, but he genuinely did not know what his sister was talking about until she motioned towards [Name] and raised an eyebrow, “You still haven’t talked to her?”

Anne knew he hadn’t, [Name] had told her as much the night before as she, [Name], and Imelda sat in around the fire in their dorm rooms gossipping. Imelda made a comment about how he didn’t deserve forgiveness anyway which caused the other two girls to roll their eyes, Anne knew where Imelda was coming from. She knew [Name] didn’t solely rely on her for female friendship and Sebsatian was her brother so she didn’t want to bring her problems about him to Anne and Imedla had stayed up many nights holding a crying [Name] in her arms as she got through the heartbreak that was loosing Sebastian Sallow, she was the one who helped her pick up the pieces of her broken heart and slowly glue it back together.

But Anne knew her brother, knew he wanted to apologise. Wanted to fix things. He was just stupid and stubborn and an absolute fool when it came to manners of the heart. Sebastian cast his eyes down to his hands, fingers fiddling together as he avoided Anne’s intense gaze and shook his head. It was strange to see him so demure, so shy, he was usually so confident about everything. Thats when Anne knew he didn’t know what to do.

She let out a sigh and dropped her hand to his, prompting him to look up at her through his eye lashes, “Just tell her how you feel Sebastian before you loose your chance.” As she said that, his eyes looked up at your again just in time to see Gareth tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and subtly glance down at your lips as if he wanted to kiss you. A pit formed in Sebastians stomach, the jealousy now turning into something tangible and real and dangerous, he couldn’t loose you. Not to Weasley, not to anybody. He stood from his spot at the table quickly, and abruptly stormed out of the room the dramatics of his actions drawing attention from the other slytherins near him.

“What’s gotten into him?” Imelda asked as she eyed his back, Ominis’ simple response was “he finally grew a pair” causing a chuckle to leave the mouths of the surrounding slytherins, including Anne.

༺═────────────═༻

A haggard sigh slips through [Name]’s slips as she walked into her dorm room, the light of the lanterns illuminating the space in such a way it feels homely and welcoming, it's a comfort of a home away from home to come back to at thend of a long school day, Imelda sits on her bed, booked surrounding her as she studies and scribbles away on her parchment. It seemed the only time the quidditch captain and prefect had to study as in the early morning dawn before the sun even kissed the sky before quidditch practive and at dusk as the moons silvery moon starts to illuminate the black lake in an etheral light before she has to attend her prefect duties. She glances up at [Name] briefly offering a small smile and pointing to the other girls bed with her head, “There’s something on your bed”

Confused, [Name] turns towards her bed and walks towards it cautiously afraid one of the other slytherins had got the wrong idea and thought she was an easy target for a prank. Instead of an ill-fated prank on her bed there is a bouquet of flowers, a plain velvet box and a note. Her fingers trail over the bouqert gently, this one is fuller than the one at the hospital wing full of wisteria (her favourite flower), carnations, and tulips. She smiles gently and lifts the bouquet, taking a smell of the flowers and letting out a content smile. The flowers were symbolic once again, wisteria is associated with long life and love, carnations meant deep affectionate love, and the red tuplips were usually conveyed that a person was your one true love.

Conjuring a vase, she places the flowers inside them as her heart hammers inside her chest, feelings she thought long forgotten bubbling to the surface as she turns back to her bed and lifts the velvet box and opens it. She gasps gently as she pulls out a gold chain with a beautiful moissante heart, she turns it over in her hands admiring the beauty and craftsmanship of the piece and an inscription catches her eye, ‘tuum in aeternum’, her heart beat quickens once again as her latin lessons finally come in handy as she quickly translates the phrase in her mind to ‘yours forever’.

Tears start forming in her eyes as she places the necklace back in its box and slips it into her pocket before reaching for the note, its simple and reads ‘im sorry. Please meet me in the undercroft tonight at 12 - S.S’. She lets out a shuttering breath and blinks the tears back, she didn’t know what to expect if she went. Didn’t know how she would react to him. To speaking to him again, with the way her heart was beating and how touch she was at the gifts he gave her she didn’t know if she could stop herself from immediately throwing herself into his arms.

Imelda’s voice pulls her out of her rolling thoughts, “Who’s it from?”

Clearing her throat, she turns to Imelda and looks back down at the card her voice coming out as barely a whisper, “Sebastian…” Imelda doesn’t ask for more information, she knows she doesn’t have to instead she just raises and eyebrow and waits for her friend to continue, “He wants to meet tonight at 12.”

At this Imelda rolls her eyes and placed her quill down, she was going to chastise her friend for breaking curfew and going back to Sebastian when he didn’t deserve it but the look on [Name]’s face as she stared at the small piece of paper has her biting her tongue. She see’s the hope in her eyes that this might be their chance at reconciliation, that they could make up and she sees the love there as well. The love her friend had pushed so far down inside of her Imelda worried she had stopped herself from feeling the motion ever again and she lets out a sigh. “Let me know what corridor you need clear and I’ll keep the other prefects away”

༺═────────────═༻

[Name] would have to thank Imelda a million times over for this, she knew her friend didn’t hold Sebastian in high regard after everything that had happened in 5th year and she still held the memory of Imelda turning round and socking him right in the nose when she heard him speak badly of [Name] for the first time. It shows that Imelda cared, despite how prickly she could be. As Imelda promised, the corridor leading to the UnderCroft was clear, giving her a clear path without the risk of any prefect seeing through her disillusionment charm. Standing before the entryway to the UnderCroft [Name] takes a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves bundling up inside of her and turning her stomach into knots.

After removing her disillusionment charm, she takes a few before she feels fully confident in going down and as she descends her hands roughly card through her hair and they start picking at the skin around her nails in nervousness. They let out another shuddering breath as the doors open to the UnderCroft, their heart feels like it's about to beat out of their chest as they take the first step out and the knots in their stomach seems to deepen to the point that they feel nauseous and that feeling only intensifies when she see’s Sebastian leaning against on the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest and his head facing the ceiling, eyes closed in contemplation.

He looked so handsome, he had always been handsome but something about him was different. She realised she hand’t really looked at him since that day in 5th year, after all she had been avoiding him, but his jawline had gotten sharper and there was an air of maturity around him that she hadn’t seen before. She knew he was taller, he had towered over her in the Sallow home in Feldrcoft after all, but he was broader too. He had well and truly grown into himself and he was so devestaingly handsome it almost killed her.

His eyes opened and his head snapped towards her, his gaze was piercing but not the way it was in his home. Then it was full of anger and it had scared it. This time, it was different. It was as if he was looking right through her, like he was staring straight into her very being and could see how nervous she was. His eyes also held something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on but it was gentle and kind and as his gaze went over her entire body she felt like she was being draped in warmth and comfort, the same kind of feeling she got on a stormy day and she wrapped herself up in blankets with hot chocolate and a good book.

She takes a step closer to him and he does the same, they stay silent as their eyes take each other in fully for the first time in a year and a half. Sebastian wasn’t the only one who changed, she had too. She had changed her hair style, courtesy of Poppy’s advise, and it shaped her face beautiful and accentuated her features, the shape of her eyes, the slope of nose, the plumpness of her lips and he wanted to reach out and kiss her. And though she didn’t grow quite as tall as he did, she had grown some and with that growth came other changes that he would be ashamed to admit he noticed, the plumpness of her hips and thighs, it made her hip dips more noticeable and made her look even more beautiful.

He would never admit it to anyone, he barely admitted it to himself but he had spent many nights dreaming of how her body would feel in his hands, her silk skin against his and her bare thighs pressing against his, her bare chest pressing against his. He had spent many sleepless nights fantasising about having her because he believed it would never really happen.

They take a few more steps towards each other until their standing toe to toe, they stand in silence for a bit the only sound being their breathing and they don’t move, they simply bask in each others presence. Sebastian is the first to move, he takes one of her hands in her own and presses a gentle kiss to knuckles before muttering “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Blush quickly seeps over [Name]’s face, dusting her cheeks rosy pink, “And I am an absolute fool.” His other hand comes up to cup at her cheek and he rubs gentle circles into the apple of hit as he continues, “I couldn’t bear the thought of loosing you to goblins. Of falling into their schemes and traps I thought you were abandoning me for them, I thought you had given up on me.”

A sad smile form on [Name]’s face as she reached her own hand up to cup the one Sebastian has on her cheek, “I never would have abandoned you Sebastian”

“I know. But I’m stubborn and hardheaded and a complete and utter asshole.I felt betrayed and I was hurt and angry and I thought by hurting you I would hurt less. I thought if I could convince you to hate me it would be easier for me to hate you for betraying me. But it wasn’t.”

He lets out a shuttering breath, his words soft as he speaks them. Almost as if someone else will here them and his words are only means for you, “It was the hardest damn thing I ever had to do. Acting like I hate you. Like I hated the ground your walked one, when in actuality I wanted to worship it. I wanted to worship you.”

[Name] turns her head slightly and kisses the palm of the hand holding her cheek, urgin him to continue, “You are simply amazing, a powerful witch in your own right who could kick my ass in a duel anytime. But you are also sweet, and kind and compassionate, you are the most courageous peson I know and you protect and care for those you love. You are better than I am in every way and I am so undeserving of you and your love. But I love you, I love you so much that it hurts. I have loved you since your first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when you kicked my ass in your first every duel, that was the day I gladly ripped my heart and placed it in your hands for safekeeping and I thank Merlin every second of every minute of every hour or day that you decided not to crush it. My heart is and always be your eternally”

“Tuum in aeternum” [Name]’s whisper is soft and finally she recognises the look in his eyes, the one that felt like warmth and comfor and home, it was love. Sebastian always kept a mask on, acting cool and collected and calm, his true emotions rarely shining through his carefully built facade to keep people from getting too close, but for her, for her, he dropped the mask and his walls he had built to keep his emotions to himself were crumbling before her very eyes.

His eyes brightened at the recognition of the phrase and he can’t stop his excitement seeping through, “You got the necklace?”

[Name] nodded her head and pulled the velvet box from her pocket and opened it, the moissonite twinkling below the torches in the UnderCroft. “I did. Will you help me put it on?” He quickly nods and she hands him the box as she turns and pulls her hair out of the way, his hands are gentle as he places the necklac against her chests and clasps it at the back of her neck. She turns back to him and cups his face gently in her hands.

“Despite everything, despite the pain you put me through this past year and a half, I still and always will love you Sebastian Sallow. My heart has been yours since you took the fall for me with Scribner. I have seen the dark sides of you but I have also seen the light.I have seen the kind and caring person you are, how much you love and care for Anne and Ominis and how you would burn the world down to protect them. You are not wholly bad Sebastian, you are good too and you are deserving of love and more. I am still hurting from what you did to me, but I forgive you”

Shock covers his features and Sebastian is quick to wrap [Name] in a tight embrace,pulling her close against his chest and leaning his head into her shoulder, “I will spend every minute of every day making it up to you, I promise you that.”

Sebastian pulls away from the hug and quickly ducks down to place a chaste kiss on [Name]’s lips, testing the waters for how far he can go. He goes to pull back but she is wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back for more, their lips crash together in a passionate kiss and as they pull apart again they both whisper the same words “Tuum in aeternum”, their solemn vow to one another to love each other, eternally.

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underdevelopedangst · 17 days

Text

trucker king (part 3)

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: ari levinson finally takes you home—to his home—and your relationship deepens.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, anal sex (f receiving), oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, squirting, vaginal fisting, rough sex, sadism/masochism, choking, breathplay, dacryphilia, painplay, rough body play, rough breast/nipple play, orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, so much overstimulation, somnophilia, cock warming, hint of a breeding kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), possessive sex, possessive behavior, aftercare, controlling behavior, referenced abduction, referenced sex as payment, stockholm syndrome, a mean hot man—please please please let me know if i forgot to tag something!!!

word count: 12.5k

a/n: this was originally supposed to be a short transitional chapter setting up the next part of the story but i love love love writing these two and i couldn't stop myself from writing about what their life would be like at home when they're not in ari's truck. i also wrote ari a little softer here than i was expecting, but he's still very much a mean, rough and filthy trucker so don't worry!!! ahhh i love him so much, i hope y'all do too!! (also sorry if the end feels kinda rushed 😅)

trucker king masterlist

After a few weeks on the road, Ari Levinson finally took you home—to his home. You were delighted to discover he lived in a cozy little bungalow in a beachside town somewhere on the East coast. As you climbed down from the rig with Ari’s help, the sun was rising over the sand dunes at the end of the street, casting the home in a warm, golden glow.

The dark cedar shake siding of Ari’s bungalow was shaded by greenery that was blooming from early spring rain and partially obscuring the house from the street. A low, weathered wooden fence ran around the property line, lined by shrubs and hedges, all of which looked well-maintained. There weren’t any flowers to be seen, giving the house a distinctly masculine appearance. But it was nice and neat, reminding you of the way Ari kept his truck.

Sand and gravel crunched beneath your feet as you started venturing away from the narrow, tree-shaded driveway where Ari had parked the truck cab, which he’d detached from the trailer when he’d finished his haul. You’d wanted to get a better look at the garden by the porch that ran across the entire front of the bungalow, but Ari’s hand shot out and circled your upper arm, pulling you back to him.

“Stay close, sweetheart,” he rumbled, giving you a sharp look that you knew was meant to drive his order home. There was still an undercurrent of distrust in Ari’s expression, his blue eyes guarded as he gathered his things from the truck and slung a bag of laundry over his shoulder. “Don’t want you getting any ideas about running off.”

Curling your fingers in the belt loop of Ari’s pants, you held onto him, tugging lightly so he always knew you were there while you admired his home and neighborhood some more. All the while, Ari watched you out of the corner of his eye.

You knew a part of him still expected you to try to run, and you would’ve huffed a frustrated sigh if you weren’t so curious about what exactly had made him so certain you would leave him. Even after a few weeks sharing the small confines of his truck and the little cot in the back, there was so much you didn’t know about Ari Levinson—and you were aching to find out.

For the moment, though, you let him gather up his things in peace. You had plenty of time to learn everything there was to know about your truck driver.

Humidity hung heavy in the air, warming it enough to make it pleasant, with a gentle breeze wafting down the street from the beach, carrying the salty tang of the ocean. The street was quiet, and you assumed Ari’s neighbors were still sleeping since it was just after sunrise.

Taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of sand and salt, feeling the first rays of the spring sun’s warmth, was all it took to fall in love with Ari’s home.

You hadn’t even gone inside, but you already felt more at home than you ever had in your shitty little apartment in the city. You couldn’t help yourself from imagining growing old with Ari in his cozy little bungalow by the beach, the two of you safe and happy in your home together. You knew it was foolish, especially when Ari still believed you had one foot out the door, but you were all in—and determined to make a future with your trucker.

The sharp snap of the truck door closing brought you back to the moment. Your fingers were still curled around Ari’s belt loop, so when he started walking toward the front door, you were tugged along.

“Y’know, your house would look nice with some flower boxes on the front porch,” you said as you quickened your pace to keep up with your trucker’s long legs. “Or by the fence.” You climbed the steps to the porch on Ari’s heels, noticing there wasn’t any outdoor furniture. “A porch swing might be nice, too,” you added offhandedly.

At the door, Ari was focused on his keys, but he shot you a wary look out of the corner of his eye. Otherwise, he gave no indication he’d heard your suggestions for home improvement. Instead, he pushed open the door and led you inside, your fingers still curled around his belt loop, like you were the one afraid of being left behind.

The interior of Ari’s home was similar to the exterior—warm, masculine, neat. The room was painted in a soft blue color, contrasting with dark wooden furniture. The house clearly had a pretty fresh coat of paint, and even though it hadn’t been remodeled in a couple decades, if ever, it was well-kept.

The front door opened up into a living room with a kitchen tucked off to the side. It was spartan, with the only furniture in the space being a small kitchen table with two chairs, a large overstuffed couch, coffee table, recliner chair and a huge TV mounted on the wall. There was nothing in the way of decoration, only the windows in the walls letting in plenty of light.

Ari dropped most of the things he brought in from the truck on the table, then led you through a doorway off the living room into the bedroom. Just like the other spaces, the bedroom was more economical than cozy, with simple furniture—a massive king-sized bed covered in black bedding, some side tables and a dark wooden dresser that acted as a TV stand for another huge flatscreen.

The back wall of the room was made up of mostly windows, all of which overlooked a neat and tidy back yard, with a shed in one corner opposite a detached garage at the end of the driveway. Disentangling yourself from Ari’s belt loop, you spun in a circle, giving Ari’s home another look now that you’d seen most of it.

It needed some work, you decided, to make it truly feel like a home, but you were just the person to do it.

Ari opened one of the doors off the bedroom, revealing a small room that doubled as a walk-in closet and laundry room. You realized the last door, tucked into the back corner of the room, must’ve been a bathroom.

You were distracted from exploring that last little bit of Ari’s house when he dumped the bag of laundry he’d brought in and began stripping out of his clothes.

It was the first time you truly got to look at Ari’s fully naked form—and he was glorious. Broad shoulders with a barrel chest covered in dark hair that you knew from experience was softer than his bristly beard. That hair trailed down over his soft tummy, which hid plenty of muscle that you’d felt beneath your fingertips.

Ari shoved his jeans down, toeing out of his boots and yanking everything off. Heat flushed through your body at the sight of Ari’s cock. Even soft, it was impressive, especially with how it looked framed by two thick, hairy thighs. You wanted to climb your trucker like a tree and rub all over him like a cat in heat, but your feet were rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but look at your man with a mix of awe and desire.

“C’mere, baby,” Ari rumbled, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he crooked two fingers in your direction. His command spurred your feet into action; you scampered across the bedroom and into your trucker’s arms, his smirk deepening at your eagerness.

“I really like your house,” you murmured while he made quick work of divesting you of your clothes—his t-shirt and sweatpants. He seemed distracted by your body, with every inch and curve of you on display for him and his greedy hands.

“Yeah?” he asked faintly, his palms smoothing over your shoulders then down your sides, groping at your hips. His eyes flicked up to yours, that wary look back in his gaze. “Next thing you’re gonna tell me, you wanna stay here,” his throat worked as he swallowed. “With me.”

There was a vulnerability in Ari’s eyes you’d never seen before. Without questioning your instincts, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your soft body against his much sturdier one. You held his gaze as you spoke slowly, assuredly, making sure he heard you and what you were saying.

“I do want to stay here with you, Ari,” you said, allowing honest emotion to seep into your tone. “I want to go on the road with you, too—I want to be with you.” Your fingers curled in the soft hair at the nape of Ari’s neck while you stared deep into his beautiful eyes, willing him to believe you.

Despite your confession and your honesty, Ari’s gaze was still guarded, but his hands squeezed your hips so tightly, it felt like he was begging you to convince him. You knew he’d never beg with words, but you were certain you knew your trucker well enough to read his body. And he wanted you to continue, so you did.

“Look, Ari,” you said softly, holding his gaze and gently playing with his hair. “Before you, I didn’t have much—a drafty apartment, a job I hated and a boyfriend who hated me but was happy to use me.”

At the mention of your ex, Ari’s gaze darkened. In spite of his obvious anger, your heart soared because you knew it meant something that Ari hated your ex so much. But you didn’t want to dwell on that asshole, so you quickly continued on.

“What I’m trying to say is, you saved me from a lonely existence,” you said, a sad smile playing at the edges of your lips. Ari’s hands held you tighter and you pressed closer, tilting your head back to hold his gaze. “So you’re stuck with me as long as you’ll have me.” You closed the distance between the two of you and pressed a soft kiss to Ari’s lips.

When you pulled away, emotion was roiling in Ari’s eyes so that they looked like a stormy ocean. His hold on you shifted, one arm banding around your lower back to hold you pinned to his body, his other hand coming up to circle the front of your throat, not squeezing but holding you firmly so he could keep staring into your eyes.

“You never should’ve gotten in my truck, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his voice more gravel than softness. “Because I’m never letting you go.” You could feel Ari’s cock hardening between your bodies, the stiff length trapped against your tummy. “And you’re never leaving me—not ever,” Ari growled, his fingers tightening around your throat like just the thought made him furious. “If you even try, I’ll break your fucking legs and chain you up so you can’t fucking leave.”

You knew it shouldn’t turn you on to hear Ari threaten you like that, with violence and imprisonment, but your body heated nonetheless, wetness gathering between your thighs. A sinful smile curled the corners of your mouth and your eyes went heavy-lidded as you stared up at your trucker.

“Promise?” you asked in a teasing tone, barely suppressing a laugh.

Ari’s expression darkened, with desire rather than fury, and he squeezed his hand around your throat, choking you lightly as he started walking you backward into the bedroom. Your steps were light on the hardwood floor of his room, your heart buoyant in your chest. Ari’s voice was a deep growl as he spoke, his eyes alight with the promise of wicked sins.

“You’re just as unhinged and fuckin’ depraved as I am, aren’tcha, baby?”

You giggled as Ari threw you down on the bed, bouncing a little on the soft mattress, your hands reaching back to catch yourself and grabbing onto the fluffy comforter. Your tits bounced and caught your trucker’s eye. Ari stared at the movement of your body almost like he was entranced.

“Yes I am, daddy,” you said proudly throwing your shoulders back and sticking your chest out for Ari. If your trucker wanted to admire your body, you’d make it as easy for him as possible, without any ounce of shame in your heart.

Using his knees to spread your legs open, Ari climbed onto the bed, covering your body with his larger form, his hands sliding up your sides to your chest. His big palms and dextrous fingers groped and squeezed the soft flesh of your tits, making your breathing turn into desperate pants.

“You’re a filthy fucking slut, baby,” he rumbled offhandedly as he lowered his mouth to your chest. Ari’s beard rasped against your soft skin, a rough contrast to the softness of his mouth latching onto your nipple.

“You love it, daddy,” you said, your giggle dissolving into a gasp when Ari sucked hard on your tit. His tongue laved over the tight peak he’d created, and a low moan slipped from your lips, your fingers diving into Ari’s soft hair to hold him to your chest.

Your trucker grunted—the closest thing you’d get to a response when he’d clearly moved on from the conversation—and suckled harder on your nipple, dragging his tongue over the sensitive point until you groaned like you were in pain. Your body squirmed beneath Ari’s broad frame, but he held you pinned to the bed with his weight and his hands.

Ari seemed unconcerned with your responses, focused instead on taking long drags from your nipples with his mouth, holding you right where he wanted even when you were arching up off the bed at the pleasurable tugging sensation. You felt every pull of Ari’s mouth in your clit, the bundle of nerves buzzing between your thighs as your trucker lavished your tits with more attention than they’d seen the entire time you were on the road with him.

All you could do was wind your fingers in his hair, pulling and tugging on the soft strands while Ari sucked on your tits, his mouth and tongue working over your chest until you were gasping with pleasure. But, though he alternated between your tits, he kept up his rough treatment of your tight nipples and soft breasts, pinching your sensitive points and groping your aching flesh, until it bordered on pain.

You were helpless beneath your trucker, an angry, pulsing throb of arousal growing between your thighs, even as the drag of Ari’s mouth began to hurt. He’d been nipping and biting and sucking on your tits long enough that pleasure gave way to overstimulated pain, but no matter how you begged, Ari didn’t stop his assault on your tits.

“Da-daddy, please,” you whimpered, your fingers tangled in Ari’s hair trying to pull him away from your chest. Pleasure and sharp pain tangled within your body, your hips squirming while your cunt ached to be filled. “Daddy, it hurts.” Even as you said the words, you knew they wouldn’t stop your trucker—they’d only spur him on, which made you flush hotter with arousal.

Proving you right, your words seemed to encourage Ari. He took a long, hard drag of the nipple in his mouth, pinching the other between two unrelenting fingers, making you scream for him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, your scream turning into soft little sobs as you cried through the pain and pleasure Ari was giving you.

“Good, cock whore,” he growled around a mouthful of your tit, his tongue rasping against your oversensitive peak until you were trembling beneath him. “Y’know daddy loves it when you cry for him.” When he finally let go of the nipple he’d pinched, you realized he only did it to slap your tit and make it bounce for him. The sight made Ari groan, and mumble a tortured, “Fuck,” before doing it again.

You cried out when the stinging pain ricocheted in your body, tangling with the pleasure of his tongue lapping against your other nipple. Even through the pain, your clit throbbed and your hips bucked beneath Ari’s big body.

“Daddy!” you sobbed, your hips rising from the bed, seeking relief, but all you had to grind against was Ari’s soft tummy. Though it felt good at first, the hair covering his stomach quickly grew too drenched with your desire to offer much friction for your needy clit.

Your trucker went back to sucking on your tits while you humped against him, your cunt slipping over Ari’s stomach as you both grew messier and messier from your arousal. It coated your thighs and his belly, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when he was still sucking your tits and nipping at your skin. It dragged you to the edge of a monumental release, but without enough stimulation to your clit or cunt, you never tipped over.

You didn’t know how long Ari spent torturing your tits, abusing your nipples until they ached with more pain than pleasure. You floated in a sea of overwhelming sensations, hovering on the edge of your release for an unfathomable amount of time.

Until finally, Ari gave one last suckle to each of your nipples and raised up, his darkened blue eyes roving over your pleasure and pain drunk body. A self-satisfied smirk spread across his face.

“Had enough, sweetheart?” he asked in patronizing condescension.

You were whimpering and sniffling against the tears that were still trickling down your cheeks when Ari leaned up to lick them from your face, his tongue rough against your sensitive skin. You mewled pitifully at the sensation and Ari groaned like the sound brought him physical pleasure.

“I need to abuse your tits more often, baby,” Ari rumbled, his lips catching more tears as they spilled from your eyes. “Ya make the prettiest fucking sounds when I hurt you.” He nuzzled his nose against the side of your face, kissing your cheek lightly, a softness in the gesture that nearly took your breath away.

“Daddy,” you cried quietly, wrapping your arms around Ari’s shoulders and pulling him close. Your aching nipples brushed against the soft hair on his broad chest, but even that little bit of sensation had you sobbing, your swollen lips babbling, “Daddy, daddy.”

“That’s it, kiddo, cry for daddy,” Ari rumbled, his mouth ghosting over your lips like he wanted to drink down the sound of your cries. He pressed his thick, stiff cock into your belly, making both of you groan with want. “Ya make me so fucking hard when you cry, cock slut.”

A whine tumbled past your lips and your body squirmed beneath Ari’s larger form, trying to line up his cock with your aching cunt. Unfortunately for you, your trucker wasn’t anywhere near done torturing you. He had too many other ideas to let you sink down on his cock just yet.

Pressing one last kiss to the apple of your cheek and licking a salty tear from your skin, Ari rose above you and shifted down your body. He dragged his beard down the valley between your breasts, licking the undersides of your tits before sinking his teeth into the softness of your belly. It felt like he was devouring your body as he worked his way down to the place where you needed him most.

Finally, he settled his big body between your spread thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders before glancing up and giving you a wolfish grin.

“I’ve wanted to suck your tits and eat your cunt since the day I picked you up, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes dropping to your soaking pussy. Your heart raced in your chest and your thighs trembled under the weight of his gaze. “This cunt is mine, and I’m not coming up for air until I’ve had my fill—d’you hear me, cock whore?” His tone turned hard on those last few words as he flicked his eyes back up to yours, daring you to protest. “If you gotta cry, then cry, but I’m not stopping until I’m done, got it?”

For a moment, you were almost too stunned to respond, but then you managed to nod your head and murmur, “Yes, Ari.” Your voice was hoarse from how much you’d cried already and a little part of you worried for how much more you’d cry if he ate your cunt with the same selfish, greedy desire with which he’d sucked your tits.

“That’s a good cock whore,” Ari rumbled, his eyes falling back to stare at your dripping slit. He spread your lower lips with his fingers, making your breath hitch as his breath ghosted over you sensitive skin. “All ya gotta do is lay there for me and take it.”

His thumb teased your clit by flicking lightly against the tip and watching as your whole body twitched. His blue eyes caught yours again, his mouth twisting in a cruel smirk.

“You can do that, can’t ya, sweetheart?” he asked in that deliciously condescending tone. “You’re so good at earning your keep on your back for me, aren’t ya, baby?”

Ari’s tone was mean and patronizing at the same time, and it only made your pussy flood with even more arousal, your cunt throbbing for attention. Your body squirmed and your lips parted to respond, but your words were swallowed by a moan when Ari dove forward, burying his face between your thighs and eating you out like a starved man.

“Daddy!” you cried, your fingers sliding into Ari’s hair and holding on tight. His mouth slipped against your swollen lower lips, his tongue thrusting deep into your hole while his nose bumped your clit and his beard rasped over your thighs. It was all too much after your trucker had deprived you for so long.

Ari wrapped his lips around your aching, needy clit and sucked hard, dragging your release out of the depths of your soul. Your back arched up off the bed, your head thrown back, a scream tearing past your lips as you shattered apart. It was pleasure like you’d never experienced it, all the time Ari spent edging you compounding to overwhelm you with wave after wave of bliss.

Aside from a pleasured groan from Ari as he drank down your arousal, though, your trucker didn’t acknowledge your release, just kept up his relentless assault on your cunt. There was no easing down for you, not when Ari seemed to redouble his efforts like he wanted you to scream for him until you had no voice left.

Like your tits, Ari ravished your cunt with his tongue and teeth, his mouth never ceasing to eat your pussy as he wrung orgasm after orgasm out of your body. Your mind frayed at the edges, your cries for him devolving from words into senseless sounds, your body growing slick with sweat at the effort it took to come so many times.

Pleasure gave way to overstimulated pain, which wobbled back incomprehensibly to pleasure again when Ari thrust two fingers deep into your cunt. Your grip in his hair weakened, your body growing more and more exhausted with each earth-shattering release your trucker insisted on pulling from you. Your chest heaved and you fought to keep your eyes open, black nothingness creeping in around the edges of your vision.

“Ari,” you whimpered, a shaky hand smacking at the arm he’d banded over your lower stomach to keep you pinned to the bed—not that he’d needed it for the last half hour he’d spent eating your pussy while you’d lay limply beneath him. “Ari, please.”

“Not done yet, baby,” he growled, glaring up your body at your pleading expression. “Daddy’s nowhere near done ruining this cunt, so don’t even think about begging me to stop.” He sucked hard on your puffy, swollen clit, making you tilt your head back, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried out hoarsely.

Not long after, you succumbed to your body’s exhaustion and passed out, your mind drifting away into the darkness of relief. It was a much-needed break from all the sensations Ari forced upon your body, your mind blissfully blank.

You didn’t know how long you languished in the darkness, just like you had no idea how long Ari had spent torturing your tits or tormenting your cunt.

Even in the darkness where you rested, you knew Ari was still using your body to his heart’s content. He’d been trapped in a truck with you for weeks without getting a chance to taste your cunt and he was ravenous. It didn’t matter that you weren’t conscious, he was going to keep on eating you out until he’d had his fill.

Ari eventually dragged you ruthlessly from your respite and you woke to the feeling of something gushing out of you. You shrieked in surprise, your arms and legs flailing against the weight of your trucker’s body as humiliation flooded through your body. You thought you’d wet yourself.

Looking down your body, you found Ari grinning and drinking down the juices squirting from your body. He had two fingers hooked deep in your cunt, rubbing against a spot inside you that lit up every nerve inside you. Belatedly, you realized what Ari had done—he’d made you squirt. For the first time ever.

The thought was fleeting, quickly consumed by the pleasure your trucker was coercing from your being with his hands and mouth. Your head fell back against the bed and you screamed your lungs out, Ari pounding away at your cunt with his fingers and wringing more essence from your body.

“Knew you’d be a squirter,” Ari crowed, lifting himself up on one hand so he could catch your eye. A smirk filled to the brim with arrogant male satisfaction curved his mouth as he stared down at you. “You were born for this, baby,” he went on, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Born to be my filthy little fucktoy—that’s why you were put on this earth, isn’t it, cock whore?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breaths coming in fast little pants as you gasped for enough air to be able to form words. Ari’s fingers were slowly working in and out of your pussy, which was so overstimulated, you were nearly numb. Still, your inner walls were fluttering helplessly around him as he eked out the last dregs of pleasure from your release.

“Y-yours,” was the only word to slip past your lips, your tongue tripping over the single syllable. It was an answer to his question, but it was also a vow of loyalty. The vulnerability in the whispered word was the first hint at the depth of your feelings for the man above you.

Ari’s eyes flared, something dark and depraved that had been buried deep inside your trucker coming to the surface. His ring finger joined the two others already pumping deep into your pussy and he looked a little wild as a dirty grin spread across his face.

“You’re mine and you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” he asked, an undertone of ferocity in his tone. “You’d even let me see if I can fit my whole fist in this tight cunt of yours, huh, baby?”

Your eyes flew wide as your heart raced faster, your mouth parting to voice your uncertainty, but your protest died on your lips when Ari added a fourth finger to your cunt. The feeling of him stretching your aching hole had intense, heated pleasure washing through your body. There was a slight sting of pain, but it only made the pleasure stand out in sharper relief and you gasped for air.

It took a long moment for you to gather your thoughts from where they’d been scattered across Ari’s bedspread, your fingers digging into the soft cotton of the blanket to keep yourself grounded. You licked your lips and focused your gaze on your trucker.

You were messy from your innumerable releases, your body aching and exhausted from everything Ari had done to you, but you still felt desperately empty. You wanted him inside you, you wanted him to live out his wicked fantasy with you—him wanting it made you want to give it to him. You never would’ve expected the idea would turn you on, but in that moment, the thought of Ari fucking you with his fist made you nearly feral with desire.

Licking your dry lips, you held Ari’s gaze as you finally nodded and answered his question.

“Do it,” you whispered, your voice low and husky from all the crying and screaming you’d done. “See if it can fit—see if you can ruin my tight pussy with your fist, daddy.”

It was Ari’s turn for his eyes to widen, though only for the briefest of seconds. Then they were darkening, his pupils blowing wide as you proved, yet again, that you were his perfect, perverted match. His chuckle was dark and sinful, the sound as much assurance as any words that he planned to defile you and keep you as his corrupted little fucktoy for a very long time.

“That’s my good girl,” he rumbled, dropping his focus down to where his four fingers were still pumping lazily in and out of your hole. He started fucking you harder, not speeding up, but working your pussy more intentionally, spreading his fingers and forcing you to stretch around them. “Such a shameless little cock slut—so desperate to be filled you’ll even let me fill you with my fist.”

The sounds of your sopping pussy being fucked by his fingers were obscene, the loud squelching made possible by how soaking wet you’d gotten when Ari made you squirt for him. You were too far gone to feel any ounce of embarrassment—it was too fucking filthy, the noises of your cunt getting fucked filling your ears and making you flood even more around Ari’s fingers.

“That’s it, baby, I can feel your cunt gushing for me,” Ari rumbled, his gaze focused on where his fingers were plunging inside you. He tucked his thumb into his hand and added it to the rest as he worked you pussy open. “Can’t wait to see your pretty little cunt stretched around my fist, fucktoy—christ.” He bit off his words in a curse as your hole stretched for him, practically sucking on his hand and begging him to plunge further inside.

Meanwhile, all you could do was thrash your head from side to side, your fingers gripping the blanket so tightly you were in danger of losing feeling in them. Your legs were splayed wide open around Ari’s broad body, your thighs trembling, your tits bouncing with every determined thrust of his fingers.

“Da-ddy,” you moaned brokenly, your hips bearing down on his hand, nearly taking all of it inside you. When he didn’t push inside, you let out a sob, tears trickling down your temples. You felt so empty, all you could think about was how good it’d feel to be full of Ari’s big, thick fist. “Need it, daddy, need your fist—please,” you whined in a hoarse, desperate whimper.

“Fuck yeah, cock whore, beg for my fucking fist,” Ari growled, shoving his hand harder against the opening of your cunt, pounding against the entrance with wicked determination. “Gonna train your hole to take it so I can bury my cock in your tight little ass and feel you fucking choke my dick with my fist in your cunt—how’s that sound, baby?”

At that moment, Ari’s big fist finally pushed past the last of your pussy’s resistance, shoving his thick hand into your fluttering cunt and making you scream. It was a broken, raspy cry, your throat too overused to manage anything more. Your mind blanked as your body processed the feeling of overwhelming fullness, the stinging pain of the stretch and, as a pleasurable heat radiated through your limbs, you decided you liked it. You really liked it.

An indecent moan tumbled from your lips, and it took a moment to realize that the new pulses of pleasure coming from your cunt were the result of Ari rubbing your clit with his thumb in lazy little circles. With a great amount of effort, you wrenched your eyelids open, finding your trucker kneeling between your spread legs, his eyes alight with a depraved desire as he watched your face.

When he saw you open your eyes, he smirked and rumbled, “There’s my filthy whore.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a groan of pleasure as Ari began moving his hand inside you, fucking you slowly with his fist, making you feel every inch of him in your body.

“You really are a gross, disgusting little thing, aren’t you baby?” Ari asked, his tone almost conversational, if not for the gruffness that belied his own arousal. Without pausing to let you even try to respond, he went on. “You begged a filthy trucker like me to fist your tight little cunt and now you’re getting off on it—you’re gonna come from letting me abuse your sweet little hole, huh?”

“Yuh huh, uh huh,” was all you could manage in response, your mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to form real words. Other parts of your body still worked, though, your hips rocking against Ari’s fist, fucking yourself on his hand while he shoved in and out of your cunt.

Your mindlessness only seemed to amuse Ari, who laughed at your braindead sounds as he leaned down over you so you were staring up into his handsome face. He was the only thing you could see, your vision narrowed to the glint in his blue eyes, the curve of his smirking mouth, and you had the wild thought that your trucker wasn’t just your king, but your god.

Something shifted in Ari’s gaze, like he was flinching away from the devotion in your expression. But your trucker wasn’t one to show weakness, and when he did, it made him angry. Suddenly, his face twisted with rage and he started fucking you harder, the thrusting of his fist in your cunt nearly punishing.

“You deserve this, baby,” he growled. “You got in my truck and you stayed in my truck, then you came home with me,” he seethed like he was outraged at you for what you’d done. His whole expression darkened with fury as he pounded into your cunt with his fist. “You asked for this, so you fucking deserve to be used like a gross little fucktoy by a dirty trucker like me.”

Ari’s thumb rubbed your puffy, abused clit, fucking you with his fist buried in your cunt, and your entire world splintered apart. Your mouth opened wide in a silent scream as your entire body went taut, your pussy clenching down so hard on Ari’s hand that he couldn’t move it anymore—but his thumb never stopped rubbing your clit. The most intense orgasm of your life dragged on and on, waves of pleasure crashing through your body until your vision whited out entirely.

It was with a fierce determination that you clawed your way back to awareness, the sight of Ari’s face limned in golden light the first thing you saw.

“Thank you, god,” you mumbled, barely knowing what you were saying or why. All you knew was that you enjoyed the deep rumble of Ari’s low laughter, his mood shifting as swiftly as the wind.

“You did well, baby,” Ari murmured, kissing your swollen and clumsy lips. It was like his fury had been swept away by the ocean of your pleasure, and you were left reeling a little. However, you were quickly distracted by the feeling of him carefully pulling his hand from your pussy.

You groaned into his mouth at the emptiness he left behind, and he swallowed the sound down, still laughing lightly at your mindlessness. But Ari’s sweetness didn’t last long, his own desire apparent in the way he deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into your mouth and taking control.

“Now it’s my turn,” he muttered darkly when he pulled away. Your sluggish mind didn’t know what to make of his words until he was rolling you over onto your stomach. You flopped down on a stretch of clean, dry bedspread and sank into it, inhaling the barest hint of Ari’s musky scent, relaxing even more on instinct.

You felt Ari’s wet knuckles graze your ass and then he was spreading you open, the broad tip of his cock pushing against your tight rosebud. You could feel he was slick and imagined he’d used the fist that had been inside you to coat himself in your juices. Slowly, he sank into your body, getting no resistance from your tightest hole because you were too exhausted to clench up.

“That’s it, filthy slut, take daddy’s cock like a perfect little fucktoy,” he grunted as he plunged inside. When he was buried to the root, he grunted his pleasure. Already you could feel his length twitching, the many hours of edging himself catching up to Ari. “Just lay there and let daddy use you—it’s the least ya can do for me, sweetheart, for how many times I made you come.”

You huffed a tired laugh at that, knowing Ari made you come so many times for his amusement more than your own. Still, you couldn’t help but notice that his voice didn’t sound as mean and ruthless as it normally did. You weren’t sure if it was your own exhaustion or if he was actually softening a little bit, but you were too tired to ruminate on it, instead focusing on how good it felt for Ari to fuck your ass.

It wasn’t long before your trucker was groaning in your ear and pounding into your ass, the sound of his skin smacking against your own filling the room.

You were wrung out, exhausted and had come more times than you could count, but Ari forced one last release from you, his fingers digging beneath your body and rubbing your abused clit until you were sobbing and shuddering through one final release, your clenching ass milking every last drop of come from your trucker’s balls as he spilled inside you.

Then, you let the darkness overtake you again, falling willingly into its restful embrace knowing you were safe at home with your trucker.

When you came to, you were surrounded by warmth, the familiar scent of Ari enveloping you. His bare chest was pressed to your back, his arms circling your body and holding you close. For once, you were sitting in his lap and his cock wasn’t inside you.

Drowsily, you blinked your eyes open, finding you and Ari were submerged in a large bathtub in the bathroom you hadn’t seen yet. The warm, golden light of sunset was filling the room and you took in your surroundings. Like the rest of the house, the bathroom wasn’t modern, though you couldn’t say how old it was. Still, it was neat and much cleaner than any of the bathrooms you’d used while on the road.

Stretching your limbs languidly, you delighted in the slight soreness in your body, feeling like you’d been put through an intense workout, though nothing you couldn’t handle. Your skin felt lightly chafed, like Ari had scrubbed you down in the perfectly heated water—and based on the pruning of your fingers, you’d been in the bath long enough for him to have cleaned you both.

Relaxing back into Ari’s arms, you hummed softly with contentment and craned your neck against his shoulder to press a kiss to the underside of his beard, just along the freshly trimmed edge.

“Did you mean it?” your trucker asked in gruff, gravelly voice, like he was dredging the words up from the very depths of his dark heart.

You made a questioning sound, burying your face in his beard and nuzzling your mean and no-longer-filthy trucker. It surprised you how much you missed the muskiness of his scent when he’d been on the road and unable to bathe as much. You pushed that thought aside and refocused on Ari.

“When you said you wanted to stay,” he clarified, “Did you mean it?”

“I did,” you answered simply, curling up and turning your body so you could lay your cheek against Ari’s chest. His heartbeat sounded a little unsteady in his ribcage, faster than usual. You placed your palm over his sternum, the gesture meant to be comforting, as you asked, “Do you think you’ll ever believe it?”

A frustrated sound rumbled deep in Ari’s chest and his arms tightened around you. “I’m trying,” he rasped, the sound desperate, almost pleading. He cleared his throat before repeating himself in a calmer tone, “I’m trying.”

Sitting up, you cupped Ari’s face in both your hands, your fingers scratching lightly through the beard along his jaw in the way you knew he liked. With a faint smile curling your lips, you stared into your trucker’s eyes, willing him to hear the words you were about to say.

“You’re my king, Ari,” you said in a quiet, but determined tone. “I live to serve you—and I’m happy to do so.”

Ari’s gaze roved over your expression for a long moment before his mouth curved into an arrogant smirk.

“Does that mean you’ll do anything I want, baby?” he asked, a familiar mocking seeping into his tone. “You gonna stay with me and let me do all the gross, disgusting things I want to your body?” His voice was almost warm, and you couldn’t help the happiness that bloomed in your heart.

An impish smile spread across your face and it was with great effort that you held back a giggle.

“Yes, daddy,” you said in the most serious tone you could manage, which wasn’t very serious at all with your mouth widening into a happy grin.

Ari pulled you in close with his arms around your waist and he captured your mouth in a searing kiss. It was slow and heated, quickly burning brighter and faster. His tongue slipped past your lips, staking a claim on your body as well as your heart and soul.

You knew it would take Ari time to truly believe you weren’t going anywhere, but you also knew you were going to enjoy every moment of proving to him that you wanted to stay with him. And while you were at his house, you planned to do everything in your power to show your trucker that you wanted to be a part of his life—that you were eager to build a life together with him.

You were determined to make his home your home, and be a safe harbor for his heart, just like he was for yours.

In the week that followed your first day at home with Ari, you learned quite a lot about your trucker that you never would have on the road.

For instance, you were shocked to discover that Ari cooked—and he cooked well. Which was good because you were hopeless in the kitchen, though that didn’t stop him from putting you to work.

While he chopped veggies and seared steaks, you kept Ari company. That meant you did whatever Ari wanted you to do to amuse him. Sometimes he sat you on the counter and fed you bites of what he was making, asking your opinion on it, which you gave honestly.

More often than not, though, Ari liked putting you on your knees on the unforgiving linoleum of his kitchen. He’d make you degrade yourself by humping against his leg, your mouth tasked with keeping his cock warm while he cooked.

Ari would chuckle at the desperate little whines that would slip from your lips when he stepped away to grab something from the fridge. He’d move back to you slowly, taking his time before sliding his cock back inside your mouth, filling you up while his leg pressed against your messy cunt.

“That’s a good cock whore,” he’d coo condescendingly, patting your head before going back to what he was doing.

You always knew when dinner was almost ready because Ari would fuck your mouth, shoving his cock deep into your throat despite the way you choked and gagged on his hard length. Your head would bang against the cabinets at your back until Ari grabbed your head with both hands, holding you still while you skull-fucked you until he emptied his balls into your mouth.

When he was done, he’d wrap a hand around your throat and drag you up from the floor, a smug, self-satisfied smirk on his lips. You’d take care of his cock for him, gently putting it back in his pants and zipping him up while he stared deep into your eyes, which would be hazy with unslaked need.

“Did you enjoy your appetizer, kiddo?” he’d ask meanly, pressing two fingers into your mouth and onto your tongue, making sure you swallowed every drop of his come.

“Yes, daddy,” you’d mumble around his fingers, the corners of your mouth curling in a sweet smile.

It’d always make Ari chuckle, his hands releasing you before swatting your ass lightly and sending you to sit at the table while he finished making dinner.

Everything Ari cooked was delicious, and you ate it eagerly. The nights when you sat down to dinner with the taste of his come on your tongue were your favorite. Somehow, eating his food with his come in your belly made it all the more satisfying.

A few days after Ari brought you home, he took you shopping for new clothes to replace the wardrobe you’d left behind when he took you. It was a relief to get some clothes of your own, but since Ari had taken your phone and wallet that first night and never returned them, he was the one paying. And since he was paying, he insisted he should have final say over everything you bought.

You weren’t all that surprised to learn that Ari wanted to put you in the sluttiest outfits he could find. He picked out short skirts that barely covered your ass, thin tops that left little about your tits to the imagination, and tight, tiny dresses that made you look like you worked at a strip club.

The clothes Ari liked were a far cry from what you typically wore, but you found you didn’t mind them as much as you would’ve expected. It helped that Ari’s eyes flared with arousal whenever you tried on one of the slutty dresses he’d picked out.

While you put on a fashion show in the changing room, he had to adjust himself every time you came out in a new outfit, and yet you could still see his thick bulge pressing against his zipper. It gave you a rush of pride and power, and it made you love everything he’d picked out for you.

Still, you found your eyes drifting to some pretty floral dresses. They weren’t anything like the slutty clothes Ari had gravitated to, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting something soft and sweet to wear sometimes.

If Ari saw you looking at the dresses, you didn’t know it.

A few hours into your shopping trip, you noticed Ari hadn’t bought you any bras or underwear and when you asked your trucker about it, he told you he didn’t want you wearing them. They’d just get in his way.

You were looking at some sexy lingerie, and you held it up, turning to your trucker and asking, “Wouldn’t you like to see me in a pretty, lacy little matching set, all dolled up just for you, daddy?” A teasing smile curved your lips, but your trucker didn’t seem swayed.

“I like seeing you in my shirts or nothing at all,” Ari said, nothing but genuine honesty in his voice as his eyes raked down your body. You knew from the heat of his gaze that he was picturing you dressed how he’d said—wearing one of his t-shirts or flannels, or wearing nothing at all.

Your heart stuttered in your chest before it began galloping, his words, which were almost nice, sinking in and making you desperate to show him how much you appreciated them. Tossing the lingerie aside, you dragged Ari into the dressing room and pushed him down onto the bench in one of the stalls.

While you bounced on his cock, he wrapped a hand around your throat, choking you hard and cutting off your air to keep you quiet enough not to get caught. He came with a quiet groan while you trembled through your own release, your cunt clenching his cock hard and eagerly taking all of his come.

When you were both sated, you kissed Ari hard, relishing the way his beard scraped against your cheeks. He held you pinned to his chest, kissing you back just as hard.

You stumbled out of the dressing room with beard burn on your cheeks and a dazed smile on your face, but you couldn’t care less if everyone in the store knew what you and your trucker had done. It had felt too good to defile the dressing room and thank him for his compliment.

It wasn’t until you got home and were putting away all the clothing Ari had purchased that you found some of the pretty floral dresses you’d eyed amid the haul. A smile stretched across your face and you quickly finished your task before you went looking for Ari to show him again how much you appreciated everything he did and said to take care of you and give you what you wanted.

You were only a little surprised to learn that Ari liked waking you up with his mouth on your pussy almost as much as he liked waking you up by pumping you full of come. He’d emptied himself into you most mornings while you were on the road, but he had nowhere to be while you were at home, and he enjoyed eating you out until you woke to the feeling of coming apart on his tongue.

Although Ari typically woke before you, there were a few rare occasions when you were up before him. You took full advantage, sneaking down his broad, hairy body before taking his soft cock into your mouth. You loved playing with him while he was sleeping, your mean trucker peaceful for a short time.

You’d gently lick and kiss and suckle on Ari’s cock, coaxing him to harden in your warm, wet mouth. You loved the feeling of him growing inside you, turning you on and making you wet as you worked his cock.

Those mornings were your only opportunity to really take your time worshipping your trucker’s cock the way you felt Ari deserved. When he was awake, he always needed to take control, setting the pace of how you sucked his cock, how he fucked you, all of it.

But when Ari was sleeping, you had all the power. And you chose to use it to worship at the altar of Ari’s cock and balls, lavishing them with your tongue and lips, getting them nice and wet and messy, covered in your drool mixing with his precum. You spent a long, long time suckling his sac gently in your mouth, feeling the weight of his balls on your tongue, before tracing every vein of his shaft until you’d committed it to memory.

You’d do everything you could to make sure Ari didn’t wake up, so you could play with his cock as long as you wanted. You knew that once he woke, he’d take over, and while you loved the way he dominated every bit of your body, you enjoyed worshipping him, too.

What you didn’t know was that Ari almost always woke long before he made it known to you. He’d lay there, pretending he was still asleep, and let you do whatever you wanted to his cock. It surprised him each time, not just that you were still in his bed, but that you were willingly sucking his cock. And not just sucking it, but adoring it.

For you, he could push down his need to dominate, at least for a little while.

Almost a week into being at Ari’s, you were surprised at how difficult it was to ask him for something you’d been thinking about since those first few nights in his rig. It took you some time, a few days of settling into a routine at Ari’s house, but one night after your trucker had fucked you six ways from Sunday, you gathered your courage to ask.

“Daddy, can I have a collar?”

As soon as the question slipped past your lips, you wished you could gather the words back up and hide them under your tongue. Silence hung between you and your trucker for a moment, and you hoped he’d already fallen asleep so he wouldn’t hear the thread of aching want in your tone.

Sure, Ari had shown you on a few occasions that he was willing to give you what you wanted—the floral dresses and the fact that he kept your favorite candy stocked in his house were proof enough. But you’d never explicitly asked him for anything. And you weren’t sure how he’d respond to a direct request.

“A collar?” Ari mumbled, stirring beneath you like he was dragging himself away from the edge of sleep.

He was laying on his back, his arm banded around your waist to hold your body sprawled across his broad chest. Your face was half smushed into his beefy pecs, your fingertips stroking idly through the dark hair that was slightly damp with sweat from the vigorous ways he’d fucked you.

Your fingertips stilled when you heard him speak, and you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.

“What d’ya want a collar for, kiddo?” he asked. His big arms dragged your body up his chest until your cheek was pressed to his mouth. He brushed a sleepy kiss to your skin, making you sigh happily.

His mouth worked against your cheek and the rasp of his beard drew a breathy giggle from your lips. It was so rare for Ari to be so sweet and playful, but if you sank into it, you’d never be able to answer his question. So you turned your face, burying it in Ari’s neck as you considered how to respond. Finally, you settled on the truth.

“I liked when you used your belt as a collar on me,” you murmured, referencing that first night in his rig. Your voice was quieter than a whisper, but since your mouth was so close to his ear, you knew Ari could hear you. “I liked when you tied me to you or tied me up inside the truck, and I…” You paused collecting your thoughts. “I want that again.”

Ari’s hands skimmed down the sides of your body and back up while he hummed a sound of acknowledgment. His thumbs brushed the edges of your nipples and you sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn’t seem to notice or care about the way his hands were warming your body with renewed desire.

“Let me get this straight,” he started, his voice roughened with almost-sleep and making him sound more menacing. That only served to stoke a new heat to life between your thighs. “You want to stay with me, but you want me to tie you up like I think you’re gonna run from me?” he rumbled, confusion clear in his voice. “I thought you wanted me to trust that you wanted to stay, baby?”

You turned your trucker’s words over in your mind trying to figure out where you’d gone wrong in your explanation. Lifting your head from where it had been buried in Ari’s neck, you let your gaze take in his expression, which was a little guarded and plenty confused. You shook your head slowly, your eyes holding his gaze.

“I want to wear something that marks me as yours, Ari,” you explained, choosing your words carefully, trying to express the desire buried deep in your heart. “I want to be bound to you forever, and I want something that reminds both of us of that bond.”

Ari tilted his head on the pillow where he lay, staring at you for a second before a grin tugged up the corners of his mouth, his blue eyes sparkling with playfulness. “Y’know, baby,” he drawled, his grin deepening into an almost mocking expression. “I think most girls would be askin’ for a ring and a wedding, not a collar.”

For a long moment, you were stunned by Ari’s words. You hadn’t even made the connection between your desire and the similarities to getting married. You hardly dared to imagine a day when your trucker would put a ring on your finger, so it was an immense surprise that he’d be the first to bring it up.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you dropped your head to his neck, burying your face in his beard. Before you could think better of it, you sank your teeth into Ari’s beard until they hit skin, biting down on your trucker until a growl rumbled in his chest. The vibrations and his chest hair teased your nipples into tight peaks, the heat between your thighs growing more insistent.

“You can give me a ring later, daddy,” you murmured in a husky voice when you finally pulled away from Ari’s beard. “Maybe in a couple years.” Your words were light and breathy as you laughed into the underside of his jaw.

Ari flipped you over with a growl, his hips slotting perfectly between your thighs, his hard cock sliding between the swollen and drenched folds of your cunt. “What the fuck have you done to me, woman?” he seethed, lining the head of his cock up with your tight hole and sliding inside without needing to reach down to guide it in.

His words were lost to the haze of your mind, pleasure overwhelming your body as he split you open on his big cock. All you could manage was to arch your spine and press down on his hard length, taking him deeper into the center of your being.

“Never thought about marriage or rings before,” he fumed, sounding like he was talking to himself. He might as well have been since the way he fucked you, roughly driving your body into the mattress, made it impossible for you to respond. “But a few weeks with you and I wanna make you mine in every fucking way possible.”

Each of Ari’s words were punctuated by a short, brutal thrust, his hips snapping into yours to bury his cock as deep in your cunt as possible. He fucked you like he was furious with you, and you loved it. You clung to his biceps as he pounded into you, your nails digging into his skin in a way that only made him fuck you harder, until tears sprang to your eyes at the delicious combination of pain and pleasure.

“Fine, baby, I’ll get you a collar,” Ari rumbled, ducking down to lick up the tears that splashed onto your cheeks, a rumbling groan of pleasure reverberating in his beefy chest. “I’ll get you a tag with my name on it.” His lips replaced his tongue as your trucker brushed sweet kisses to the apples of your cheeks while you cried harder, his cock pummeling your cunt like he wanted to imprint himself in your body. “But one day I’m gonna put a ring on your fucking finger and you’re gonna take my last name—and you’ll be all fucking mine.”

Ari wrapped one of his big hands around your throat and you let out a helpless moan, staring up at your trucker while he hovered above you. There was a wild look in his eye that matched the feral way he fucked you like a beast. Your heart thumped in your chest, devotion and something you weren’t yet ready to name thrumming through your body.

A smile curled the edges of your mouth and Ari’s eyes darkened.

“Ya gonna let me do all that, baby?” Ari hissed over the sound of his thighs slapping against yours. He tried to mask his emotions in fury, but you knew your trucker well enough to see the incredulity hidden beneath. The bed under you creaked, but neither of you paid it any mind. “Ya want daddy to claim you in every way he can think of, kiddo?”

“Yes, daddy,” you cried on a gasp, not needing to think your answer through before voicing it. In fact, you had some ideas of your own for how he could claim you and they slipped past your lips, coming out as a choked whine. “Tattoo your name over my heart—mark me, Ari, claim me forever.”

“Oh fuck,” Ari grunted, his cock twitching inside you. Your trucker clearly liked the idea and you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that pulled on your lips. His eyes blazed when he saw the expression. “You’re a gross, filthy little fucktoy, ya know that, baby?” he growled seconds before capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.

Ari rutted into you, squeezing your throat in his hand and licking away your tears in between claiming your mouth with his own. It wasn’t long before he came, groaning as he spilled his come deep in your cunt.

Heat filled you as your own pleasure crested, and in the split second before you followed him over the edge, you had the wild thought that one day you wanted him to plant his seed in womb until it takes. You wanted him to knock you up until you were swelling with his child. You wanted him to claim you in the most primal and ancient way possible.

But that was a conversation for a long time in the future. Your IUD was still very much in place, and keeping you from getting pregnant. You knew that was for the best.

Still, in that moment, the thought of Ari knocking you up turned you on so much that it sent you careening into an ocean of pleasure, wave after wave of bliss washing over you. A choked cry fled your lips as you came, your body clenching tight and milking every drop of your trucker’s come into the depths of your cunt.

When your pleasure had ebbed, Ari collapsed on top of you, rolling onto his side and gathering you up against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, the gesture sweet enough that you knew it was an answer to your initial question. Happily, you snuggled into his warm chest and the two of you fell asleep together.

The next morning, you sat in Ari’s lap in the recliner chair in his living room and the two of you picked out a few collars together from some online stores.

One was a thick black leather collar, with a metal loop that Ari could attach a leash to, which he also added to his cart. He’d be able to tie your collar to his belt loop, like he’d done those first few nights in his rig, or wrap a chain around his bed frame and tie you to it while you were at his house.

Another collar was a slip chain that Ari could pull to choke you. That one excited both of you, especially since it looked like a normal necklace, which meant you could wear it out in public. The thought that Ari could choke you whenever and wherever he wanted turned both of you on.

The last collar was a delicate chain necklace with a heart pendant attached. The sweet heart-shaped tag would be engraved with ‘Baby’ on the front, while the back would have Ari’s full name and phone number. In case you got lost, he said with a chuckle. The best part of that one was it had a locking mechanism in the back, so only Ari would be able to put it on and take it off.

Once the orders were placed for your new collars, you slid out of Ari’s lap and down to the floor. Kneeling at his feet between his thighs, you lowered your face to the bulge in his pants, intent on showing your trucker how much you appreciated him for giving you what you wanted.

As time went on, the bungalow by the beach started to feel properly like home. It helped that your trucker had fucked you on every surface of his house, but it was the small things that really made you feel like you belonged—your clothes hanging in his closet, your favorite foods in his kitchen, the swing waiting to be hung up on the front porch.

It had been about a month since Ari had first picked you up and your old life never felt further away. You were content with letting it slip away into your past, focusing instead on building your new life with your trucker. But fate was a fickle thing, and it seemed your old life wasn’t so willing to let you go.

One evening, a week or so after Ari first brought you home, you were sitting in his lap in his recliner, his cock buried in your ass while a baseball game played on the massive TV in the living room. Your back was to Ari’s chest, a blanket pulled over your front since it was a cold spring night. He played idly with your pussy, teasing your folds with light touches while you dozed.

However, you jolted awake when your name came from the TV. Wrenching your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a news anchor reporting a story of a missing girl with your picture posted on the screen next to their head.

Ari must’ve roused too, because his arms wrapped tightly around your front, holding you pinned to his lap. Together, you watched the news report in rapt silence.

“Police have arrested the missing girl’s boyfriend on suspicion of murder,” the anchor reported, the image of your face dissolving into footage of your ex being taken into custody. His face was twisted with rage and, though there was no sound, you could read his lips protesting his innocence.

“As a reminder, she was last seen along highway 78, though police reports indicate her boyfriend was the last to see her there when he forced her out of his vehicle.” The anchor paused for a moment before continuing, the picture on the screen shifting back to them at their desk. A phone number appeared along the bottom of the screen. “If anyone has any information, or has seen the missing girl, please call the number on screen.”

Your photo filled the screen, and you took a moment to look at yourself. The image had been pulled from one of your social media profiles, it was a selfie you’d taken and sent to your ex. When he hadn’t replied, you’d posted it online hoping for the attention you’d craved. Though you were smiling in the picture, there was a sadness in your eyes that you realized you hadn’t felt in a few weeks.

Not since Ari picked you up and kept you.

Gratefulness filled your chest, making your heart feel like it was floating. You sank back into Ari’s body, so consumed with how much happier you were in your new life that you hadn’t noticed he’d paused the live report on the shot of your face and the tip line number. You were brought back to the present by your trucker’s voice in your ear.

“Everyone thinks you’re dead,” he mumbled, like he was talking to himself. There was something in his voice that you didn’t recognize.

Shifting your head on his shoulder, you turned and craned your neck so you could see Ari’s expression. He looked like he was deep in thought, something like glee hidden beneath the contemplation etched into the lines of his face.

Your trucker’s words finally made the rest of the news report sink in.

Not only did everyone think you were dead, but your ex had been arrested on suspicion of murder—your murder. The police thought he’d killed you. It seemed like everyone thought he’d killed you.

Guilt roiled in your stomach at the thought of your ex sitting in jail while you were sitting on Ari’s lap. You were alive and well and doing better than you ever had while you’d been with your ex. And you tended to believe that the best revenge was living well, so you felt like you knew what you had to do.

“We should probably tell someone I’m not dead,” you said, threading your fingers through Ari’s beard and pulling his face to look at you. His eyes snapped into focus and he stared down into your face. You could tell the moment he realized you felt guilty, a devious smirk curving his lips.

“Now, why would we do that?” he asked in an arrogant drawl.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, your mouth turning down at the corners into a frown as you stared at your trucker in confusion. “Because I’m not?” you said, though the inflection of your tone made the statement sound more like a question. You weren’t sure what Ari was getting at, but it made you nervous.

Ari’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that was clearly meant to soothe you, but that evil smile on his face only made you more uncertain.

“Your little shit of an ex could have killed you,” Ari growled, the reality of his words wiping the smirk from his face. His expression twisted into one of fury as he continued to speak. “You could’ve frozen to death or been picked up by someone much, much worse than me.” His arm around your waist tightened, holding you so firmly it nearly hurt. “He deserves to fucking rot in prison for the danger he put you in.”

The vehemence of Ari’s tone made it clear he was serious. He truly believed your ex was getting what he deserved because even if he didn’t kill you, he could have with his actions. And that was a criminal offense in Ari’s eyes.

It was fucked up, but your heart surged with affection for your trucker. You pulled him down for a kiss using your grip on his beard, showing him with your mouth just how much you liked his way of showing he cared. It was a little awkward, with the way your neck was craned, but you didn’t care.

When you pulled away, you were breathing harshly and desperate to go back to what you and Ari had been doing before the news report came on the TV. However, there was a niggling thought in your brain and you couldn’t help asking the question that seemed most obvious to you.

“Won’t they just let him go when someone figures out I’m not dead?”

Another devious smirk slashed across Ari’s face, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat so he could ensure you stayed looking at him. Instead of answering your question, he asked one of his own.

“You said you wanted to stay with me, you said you wanted to be mind forever—did you mean it, baby?”

Unlike that first night when Ari had asked you something similar, he no longer sounded uncertain or insecure. Instead, Ari’s question sounded more like he was checking in with you, like he finally trusted you and was simply making sure nothing had changed. Hope spread warmly through your body and you smiled at your trucker.

“Yes, Ari,” you said easily, genuine honesty plain in your voice. “I meant it.”

Ari’s smirk bloomed into a wide grin, greedy delight and something like authentic happiness sparkling in his eyes. He kissed you, quick and fierce, like he was rewarding your honesty and thanking you for it at the same time.

When he pulled away, he kept your neck craned so he could watch your face, while his other hand drifted down to settle between your thighs. Beneath you, he rocked his hips, fucking into your ass hard enough to make you gasp.

“I have some friends that can help us, baby,” Ari said, his fingers diving into your cunt and teasing you open. They felt so thick inside you, your hole feeling smaller with his big cock buried in your ass. “They’ll help me give you what you want, but it’ll come at a price.”

Words escaped you, leaving you to moan mindlessly. You stared into Ari’s eyes, mesmerized by the beauty of your trucker while he fucked you like his own personal fucktoy. All you could do was sit on his lap and take his cock and his fingers, and you did so gladly. He was your king and you’d do anything he said.

“You willing to do anything I tell ya, baby?” he asked, his mouth curving into another depraved smirk. Your trucker began grinding the heel of his palm against your clit while he fucked you with his fingers and cock. “Even if it means I let my friends have free use of your holes for a whole night?”

A shiver of desire raced down your spine and your whole body clenched tight at the delicious thought of Ari using your body to pay his friends. He grunted, fucking you harder and wringing a loud, filthy moan from your mouth. He cut off the sound by squeezing your throat, grinning at you as you spluttered and clenched around his fingers and cock.

When he eased up enough to finally let you answer his questions, you nodded, words falling from your lips so fast they almost stumbled over each other.

“I’ll do anything for you, daddy,” you said on a gasp as you pulled in some much-needed air. Your mind was swimming in a haze of pleasure, both from his words and from the way he perfectly worked your body. “I’ll do anything to stay with you, Ari, I promise.”

Your eyes slid closed, your words dissolving into another moan as Ari’s hand slapped against your clit while he fucked your cunt with his fingers. Your ass was bouncing on his cock and it was too much, it felt too good. But his fingers squeezing the sides of your neck had you wrenching your eyes open, finding Ari’s blue eyes flaring with emotion.

You saw it in Ari’s gaze. Your trucker finally—finally—believed you. He believed you wanted to stay with him, and that you would do anything for him. From the look in his eye and the ruthless way he fucked you with intent, Ari was going to make you keep all your promises to him.

You couldn’t wait. Because it meant you were staying with your trucker. Forever.

trucker king masterlist

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